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My hands grasp his waist and he lets out a shaky breath.
“I’m going to stab you,” he breathes, and I glance down at his pouty mouth and tighten my fingers around his waist. “I’m going to twist the knife when it enters you. Or maybe I’ll saw you in half and feed you to the hogs….”
“If you’re so against me touching you, why do you keep gravitating toward me? If I were the sun, you’d be Earth.”
“I’m the motherfucking moon.”
I snort and Diablo wets his lips, his gaze traveling down my face to my mouth. I feel it go dry, and I hold on to him a little tighter, almost bruising pressure.
“I’m figuring out where you’re most vulnerable. So I can slide that knife in, nice and deep.”
My hand moves on its own accord. I can’t stop it. It swings and slaps down onto his ass with an undignifiedcrack, causing him to jolt forward, his groin smashing into mine.
“You didn’t just…” he begins, but the second spank makes him gasp, a low moan slipping from his lips.
I know what this is doing to him. It’s doing it to me too. My dick wanting so badly to snap up and salute him. The little unruly shit that he is.
“I’ll do it again,” I hiss and then dare him to make me.
Because that’s what this is. Coercion. I’d never do this on my own. He drives me to it.
He bites down on my shoulder, and I slap his ass harder this time. I should pull those boxers down and really make it sting.
“Don’t make me put you over my knee.”
“I’d never let you.”
“You wouldn’t let me. I’d make you.”
He’s breathing heavier now, his body pressed against mine, his cheeks still stained red. I feel an intense desire to mark him, to make him stare in the mirror and see what I’ve made him. The notion is insane. I’ve completely lost my mind. I’m not an animal.
Or am I?
“You could never make me do something I don’t wanna do.” His words are almost slurred, desperate.
“I have a rope. I could do whatever I want to you.”
He slumps into me, his hands sliding around my neck. They don’t squeeze, just rest there as my hands move down to his ass, massaging it, feeling it. It’s small, round, and perky. I could easily lift him into my arms and set him on the bed. I could sprawl him out, tie him up and fuck him.
I think he’d let me.
The smell of burning eggs and bacon jolts me out of my daydream, and I step back. Quickly turning off the burner, I stare sadly at the mess I just made. Such a fucking waste.
Or was it?
Diablo is leaning against the counter, his chest heaving, his cock straining out toward me. So goddamn enticing for some unknown reason. I’ve never looked at a client like this. I’m always so fucking professional. But for some reason, he’s scrambling my brain. Like the eggs I just burned and ruined.
That’s what he’s doing to me. He’s making me irrational and fucking crazy.
I need to get back to logic. I need to use my goddamn brain. I will not be tying him up and fucking him.
I may spank him, but it won’t be sexual. Not at all. It will just be…maintenance.
“Clean up your mess,” I demand, and Diablo just rolls his eyes and stalks toward the bathroom, his gait slightly off, his legs wobbly beneath him. The bathroom door slams shut, and I just glower at it.
I need to focus. I cannot get distracted. His life and mine depend on it.
CHAPTERFOUR
