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Tareq let the door close and studied her profile.Nomi looked calm, maybe even a little regal, but her grip on his hand told a different story.
Gently, he wiggled his fingers free of her hold.The moment she realized what she was doing she released him, and he could see the faint flush that rose on her cheeks.
She’d grabbed his hand because she was either nervous or scared, instinctively seeking a connection, and he’d rejected that same connection.That wasn’t actually what happened, but he could practically see the thought on her face.
Tareq lightly gripped the back of her neck, his fingers clamping her hair against her skin.“Ah ah ah, Nomi.Don’t get lost in your head.”
Now she was tense, but no longer curling in on herself.A different flavor of tension.
“I’m not, Sir.”
His cock twitched at the word ‘Sir’.They’d discussed this, and agreed on her calling him either Sir or Master Zine as he preferred the Master Last Name rather than Master First Name format.
Nomi tipped her head back, the base of her skull resting on the edge of his hand.Her neck made a lovely line, and he surrendered to the need to touch her, running his finger from her chin down the curve of her neck to her collarbone.
Her lovely breasts were right there, the soft swells vulnerable and ripe.He wanted to worship her with a kiss and then taste her with a bite.
Instead, he forced his hand to follow the line of her collarbone out to her shoulder and down her arm until he hit the fabric of her sleeve.
He toyed with that for a moment, making it dance up and down until she shivered.He tightened his hold on her neck, just enough to make sure she really felt it.
“Remind me of your safe words.”
“Stoplight system,” she murmured.“Red for stop, yellow for slow down or pause, green for keep going or more.”
“Good girl.”
She shivered again.
Tareq pressed his lips to her hair, then kissed her earlobe.
“Do you like being called a good girl?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’re going to be a very good girl for me, aren’t you?”
“I’ll try, Sir.”
“You won’t have to try.I’m going to make sure you’re a good little sub who knows exactly who this pretty body belongs to.”
“Not exactly little,” she murmured.
Tareq stilled.“What did you say?”
“I said I’m not exactly little.”Nomi gestured down the length of her body with one hand.
Tareq quickly recalibrated his plan for the scene, because this needed to be addressed now, and in a way she’d remember.
“Did you just insult my sub?”He whispered the question in her ear.Her reaction was a gratifying shiver, and her voice was high and nervous when she spoke.
“No, I made a factual observa—”
“Don’t pretend this is about semantics.Apologize to yourself.”
She tried to turn, but he grabbed her arm, holding her by the neck and elbow, his body partially behind hers.
“I’m not small,” she said in a too-calm voice.“I want…I want to make sure you realize that.”
