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If he dominated her?
She might have screwed everything up with her questions and assertions.
“Josslyn.” There was warning in his tone.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Do you want to hear the second factor?”
She’d forgotten he’d said there were two reasons she hadn’t fully engaged in the power exchange.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Second, no one has ever made you truly submit.”
Josslyn’s breath caught, and she glanced at Master Ben out of the corner of her eye. He was looking at her with a calm, measured intensity that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She wanted to protest, but that look on his face warned her not to.
“Now you’re mine, and I’ll show you exactly what it means to have a Dom controlling all your pleasure, and all your pain.”
Josslyn closed her eyes as a shiver of pure, raw need ripped through her. She wanted him, wanted the submission he could give her.
Even if it scared her. Maybe because it scared her.
She wanted to feel something, experience something. Her disappointment at hearing their letter was gone because right now, she was sure that Master Ben could make something as simple as rope and a riding crop feel like intense bondage and impact play.
“May I touch you?” he asked again.
“Yes, Sir. Though I have to point out that I’m sitting on your lap…”
“Yes, you are.”
One hand still rested casually on her knees, and Master Ben squeezed her.
“But,” he said, “we haven’t officially started.”
“We haven’t? I mean…I was kneeling for you.”
Master Ben arched a brow. “Did I ask you to kneel?”
Josslyn smiled slightly, seeing where this was going. “No, Sir.”
“You chose to kneel.”
“I mean…you had a floor cushion under a spotlight.”
He cleared his throat. “It was recently pointed out to me that I have a flare for the dramatic.”
Josslyn laughed and leaned into his chest a little. His arms tightened around her in response. Then the hand on her knee slid up the side of her thigh, and Josslyn’s amusement turned to tension. She watched his hand inch up her leg and held her breath.
He stopped when his thumb touched the hem of the short raw-silk dress she wore.
“Josslyn, I’d like you to spread your legs.”
“Are we…starting now, Sir?”
“No. I’m giving you a chance to get used to my touch.”
She wanted his touch, she wanted it very badly, but that didn’t stop her chest and cheeks from heating with embarrassment as she shifted position. She braced the foot of her outer leg on the floor, bending her knee, then carefully let her leg fall open.
