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I never thought I would want anything other than that.
But I do.
I want it with this woman.
This woman I barely know but who has somehow softened me.
Of course there’s still the matter of the article she’s writing. I don’t want to be part of that.
But that thought disappears from my mind as she undresses in front of me.
She has a beautiful body. Long yet buxom, with slim hips and legs.
She’s tall, and even after she kicks off her platform pumps, she’s still tall.
She stands naked before me, her cheeks pink, her lips scarlet with lipstick, her fingernails and toenails both painted the same color—a blackish red.
Very vampy.
I suck in a breath at her beauty.
“Time for you to take off your clothes,” she says.
“Maybe you’re not understanding how this Dominant-and-submissive thing works,” I say. “You don’t tell me what to do. I tell you what to do.”
“You didn’t tell me to get undressed.”
I rake my gaze over her—my God, she’s beautiful—and she’s also right. I didn’t tell her to get undressed. Perhaps she should pay the price.
“True. And I’m going to have to punish you for that.”
A subtle shudder racks her body. “Oh?” She tries to remain calm, but her voice cracks a bit.
“Yes. You may as well learn that lesson now.”
“Look around,” she says. “I don’t have any rope here. No handcuffs. Not even a blindfold. No toys of any kind.”
“Any good Dominant knows how to improvise.” My voice is dark. “Believe me. I’ll figure it out.”
The tops of her breasts turn pink. Her nipples are protruding, so hard and ripe for my lips. I will suck on them, but not now. Right now, I promised her punishment, and if I renege, I won’t be her Dominant. And I desperately want to be her Dominant. That has never been a question.
I want to be her Dominant.
The problem is that I want to be so much more to her.
But I’ll start with being her Dominant. It’s what I know.
I walk toward her, still fully clothed, and trail my finger down her cheek, her neck, over the tops of her breasts and lightly over one nipple. She gasps.
“You are beautiful, Frankie. So very beautiful.” I softly touch her shoulders and turn her around so her back is to me. I sift my fingers through her hair, and then I slide my hands down her back and cup the globes of her ass.
“This is a beautiful ass. Tell me… Has it ever been spanked?”
Before she replies, I slap my palm against her right cheek.
She gasps again and turns to face me, her mouth forming an O. “Hunter!”
“If spanking is a hard limit for you,” I say, “we may need to end this now.”
“It’s… I…”
I rub the cheek of her ass to ease the sting as I move my mouth close to her ear. “I will never do anything you don’t want. Not ever. But tell me now if you can’t handle this.”
“What if I said I couldn’t?” Her voice shakes.
“I—”
I stop.
What if she can’t? This is the kind of sex I like, but do I want to give her up?
All the more reason why I shouldn’t be pursuing any kind of relationship.
“Then I’m afraid we have no future,” I force myself to say. “So I’m hoping you won’t say that.”
She melts against me. As I hold her naked body, I sniff her hair. Fruity and woodsy, like apples and patchouli. An amazing aroma, and for some reason it seems to fit her.
“I can handle it, Hunter,” she says against my chest. “In fact…I liked it. It just surprised me. That’s all.”
I push her away from me so I can meet her gaze. “Are you sure, Frankie? You need to tell me the truth. We need to be truthful with each other if this is going to work. You need to tell me if I go too far. I could even give you a safe word.”
A smile edges onto her lips. “What if I’m gagged? I wouldn’t be able to use the safe word.”
I can’t help myself. I smile. With that one comment, I know Frankie and I are well matched. And apparently she does, too. “That’s not for you to worry about. We’ll have an alternative way for you to let me know.”
“Hunter,” she says, “I’m so tired of vanilla sex. It’s all I had with Penn, and it’s all I thought I’d ever get. Meeting you was like…getting glasses.”
“What do you mean?”
“I used to be horribly nearsighted. I got laser surgery several years ago, but before that, I wore contacts. I first got glasses when I was in middle school. I hated the way I looked in them, but that’s another story. Wearing them, though, was”—she chuckles—“eye-opening.”
I smile. “Nice pun.”
“Couldn’t help myself. Anyway, before I ever had them on, I didn’t realize what I was missing. I thought squinting my eyes to make the words on the blackboard less blurry was as good as it got. Once I got glasses… Well, you can infer the rest.”
