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A moment later, they were on the floor and she was viewing me with open appreciation. She wrapped her fingers around the base of my erection, stretching them to try to get them to meet.
Between the teasing look on her face and her fluttering fingers, I should tell her right now to save her effort. At this rate, I’d keep growing until she lost her hold on me entirely.
“If I ask you to do something, you’ll comply.” She tilted her head. Her hand kept moving, gliding through the wetness from my seeping tip.
Wetness that only kept increasing.
“Do I need a safe word?”
I was kidding. Of course I was.
Insisting on safe words was my jurisdiction, even if I rarely allowed myself the pleasure anymore. Though after tonight, I didn’t know if I’d be able to shove my needs back in the closet anytime soon.
It had been hard as hell to shut them down before Peyton. After, I felt changed in ways I wasn’t sure I’d ever make it all the way back from.
And that wasn’t just impossible, it was idiotic. We didn’t know each other. Compatibility in the sack meant…
So fucking much.
But it wasn’t just that. It was also how she smiled and laughed, along with her insatiable curiosity and urgency to live life on her own terms. Those traits not only stirred my protective instincts, they made me want to rip down the fence around my own boundaries.
I’d been locked away in a cage of my own making for so long that she represented a kind of freedom I’d never expected to get to taste again.
Peyton Pryor could easily become a dangerous addiction for me.
In every possible way.
Even her voice. I hadn’t expected to like her music. I’d figured the pop princess probably couldn’t sing without the help of Auto Tune or some other mechanical aid like too many of the current artists.
How wrong I was.
Maybe all her song selections weren’t for me, but the voice singing those words worked for me on every level.
Sexy, husky, teasing. Coaxing me to go on the adventure of my life, if I only dared.
“Do you have one?” She cocked her head while she caressed my shaft. Her thumb circled over the tip of my erection before she darted along the underside to rub over the ridged spot that made my breath go short. “A safe word?”
“No. I’m not a switch,” I bit off. From her silence, I gathered she didn’t know what that was. “I’m dominant, not submissive.”
She bent to lap at the liquid she’d created, making ammmnoise that nearly caused my eyes to roll back. “But you’re cuffed right now.” Lightly, she blew a stream of air over the wetness from her mouth. “At my mercy, remember?”
“Fuck.” This woman. She was going to kill me, and I’d probably die happy.
With all the years I’d spent grouchy and alone, that seemed wrong.
“You said so,” she said in a singsong voice that caused me to grin.
“I did. Fucking tease.”
“I’m not teasing. I’m going to deliver on all promises, both direct and implied. Your safe word, Sir.”
“Again,” I demanded, needing to hear that word from her mouth. Needing to hear it directed atme.
Despite the oddness of her using it while they were discussing my need for a safe word, hearing it from her soft pink lips still satisfied something primal inside me.
“Sir?” Her voice wobbled. “Is that…is that part of this? The whole safe word deal? I’ve heard bits and pieces. My makeup artist is into this sort of thing, I think.” She huffed out a breath. “Tell me your safe word, Sir.”
I had to laugh. God, she was turning everything on its ear. Even me.
