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"I… I…" I swallow.What am I going to say? That I loved what you did to me earlier? Was so turned on by how you spanked me? When you kicked apart my legs, it sent a primal thrill through me, and when you tore off my panties I almost spontaneously orgasmed? And that was before I knew it was you. Now that I know it is you, please, please, please can you throw me down on my hands and knees and fuck me, please?I tip up my chin, then straighten my shoulders. "I’m here to do a job."
"Job, hmm?"
"Yes, a job. You know, the kind where you earn money by the hour."
"And have you done this kind of job before?"
I blink, then slowly shake my head.
A furrow appears between his eyebrows. “This floor is for the more experienced players. How did you get in here?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and glance away, but he pinches my chin, so I have no choice but to look at him.
“Tell me. Now,” he snaps.
“I lied to the bartender. I told him I was desperate for a job, and he pulled some strings with the recruiter to get me up here.” The words rush out of me before I can stop myself.Jesus, why don’t you tell him your entire life story while you’re at it? Funny thing? If he commanded me to do so in that hard voice of his, I'd do it, too. And that’s scary. It’s also sexy. But really, really scary.
His eyes flash, and a vein pops at his temple. He looks like he’s about to lose his temper—which has a certain appeal, given how controlled he’s been so far, but I'm not sure I’m ready to face the consequences when that happens... Yet.
I swallow, and his gaze drops to my throat. His jaw ticks. For a second, I’m sure he’s going to wrap those thick fingers of his around my throat and squeeze. My breath catches. My pussy clenches. What kinky fuckery is this that I find every move of his such a turn on?
He leans in close enough that his rich, spicy scent invades my senses. My nipples harden. A million little fires light up my nerve endings. A moan escapes my lips. Instantly, he looks up and into my face. He seems to remember where he is and who I am, for his gaze clears.
“What the fuck is this asshole’s name?” he growls.
“I... I don’t know his name.”
“You don’t know his name?”
“I, uh, flirted with him and got what I wanted. It was one meeting and very innocent. He also discounted my drink, so you know, all in all, it was worth it.” I bat my eyelashes at him. It only serves to make his lips twitch. And now, I feel like an idiot. You know, 'cause I didn't earlier.
“Innocent, huh?” He asks in a lazy voice which does weird things to my insides. Jeez, there’s no winning with him. When he’s all forceful, I adore it. And when he goes all laid back, I crave whatever it is he wants to do to me. My thoughts are definitely not innocent. I manage not to blurt that out and firm my lips, which light up those green eyes with a dangerous gleam.
"So, you’ve never been someone’s submissive?"
"Submissive?" I squeak.
He releases my chin, only to press his thumb into the pulse that’s beating at the hollow of my throat, and oh, my god, it’s as if he’s branded me there. My mouth dries. My toes curl. I stare up at him, unable to look away as he holds me pinned in place.
"Tell me, Miss Innocent, did you know you were here to bemysubmissive?"
"I didn’t know it was going to be you—"In which case I’d have stayed away. Nope, I lie, in which case I wouldn't have been so ashamed to be aroused by what you did to me.Somehow, the fact that it was Knight and not some strange man makes it all better—not the part where he threatened me with anal, but the earlier part when he was spanking me, which I, strangely, liked. A lot. "Also, I know what a submissive is."
His gaze intensifies. "You do, huh?"
"Of course, I do. I’m not stupid." And I’ve read enough smutty books to be somewhat of an expert on the topic. Not that I’m going to tell him that…
"And yet, you’re here, in this room, with me?” he murmurs in that silky voice which seems to slither down my chest and coil in my belly.
I squeeze my thighs to control the ache that flares there and tip up my chin. "Yeah, uh, I needed a job, and the bartender said they were looking for someone who—"
"Who?" His voice is low, almost deceptively soft, but the skin around his eyes creases, and I know then, he’s not anywhere as composed as he’s pretending to be. "What did he tell you?" The command inherent in his words causes a spurt of something to twist my belly.Oh, god, why is the simple act of talking to him an erotic dream come true?
"Don’t keep me waiting. Tell me. Now." He lowers his voice to a hush, and something inside of me loosens.
"He mentioned they needed a woman to entertain one of their clients with specific tastes and that whoever was chosen for the gig would be paid a lot." The words rush out of me.
His jaw ticks. "Specific tastes?"
