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Daniel stroked her side several times. “Or perhaps I’ll call you my needy little slut.” He slid his hand down her belly, and let his thumb briefly rest on her thong, over her pussy, just touching, no caress or stimulation.
“Or my submissive whore.” He could see the way her stomach muscle clenched in response to even that small stimulus.
“Damn it,” she whispered.
“Talk to me.”
“It’s…It’s hot when you say it, but…”
“But it still makes you nervous. That’s fine.” With a nudge he directed her off his lap. “Spread your legs.”
She stepped wide, now in a standard and undeniably submissive posture—arms up and out of the way, feet wide apart.
“On second thought, I’m going to use all three words, depending on my mood. Sometimes I’ll be kind, and you’ll be my pet. When you’re writhing and desperate for me to fuck you, you’ll be my needy little slut.”
He added the faintest hint of a sneer to the words, and carefully watched her expression. It didn’t change. She didn’t flinch or jerk.
“And when you’re so submissive that you’ll do anything I ask, let me do anything I want to your body…then I’ll call you ‘whore’.”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot, hips rocking.
“Talk to me. What are you thinking, pet?”
“I’m thinking I shouldn’t be turned on by this.”
“But you are.”
She nodded, though he hadn’t actually asked a question.
“It should freak me out evenmoreto hear you say those words, use them, after we talked.” Her gaze, which had been focused on his chest, rose to meet his. “But I’m not. I even…I want it.”
“Want to be my pet? My slut?” He drew designs on her inner thighs with the tip of one finger and watched her leg muscles clench in reaction.
“I don’t have a degradation kink.” Her voice was almost pleading.
“No, I don’t think you do. But I think you have let fear limit your play, because you didn’t feel safe.”
“I trust and respect the men I’ve scened wi—”
Her words cut off on a gasp as he cupped her pussy. Using his middle finger he pressed the satin between her labia. The wet fabric molded to the inside of her sweet cleft. He stroked that same finger over the bump of her clit and her whole body jerked in response.
He ran his nail over her clit, as if he were scratching it, knowing that the fabric would protect her enough to keep the sensation from veering too far into the pain section of that particular gauge.
“Holy fuckidy shit,” she whimpered, thighs twitching.
His lips quirked with amusement and pleasure. Pleasure that in this moment she was still the woman who’d boldly referred to the checklist game as “bat-shit” crazy. He wanted it all from her. Wanted the sass coupled with submission.
He scratched her clit again, and her whole body jerked. She dropped her hands, grabbing his shoulders to keep herself up.
When he did it a third time she whimpered and started to close her legs.
“No, slut.” He punctuated the reprimand with a vicious pinch to her nipple.
She sucked in air between her teeth, then let it out as a low, aroused moan.
“Arms up. Show off your tits.”
Eyes half closed, she obeyed. He ran his thumbs over the pale flesh on the underside of each breast.
