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I walked ahead of him up the stairs, grateful that my butt always looks so good in jeans. “I hope the bedroom isn’t too ‘vanilla’ for you,” I said, making air quotes as I gained the top step.

“Anything we do here will be fairly vanilla,” he assured me. “You’re not ready for extreme. Besides, I don’t have rope or a paddle, I don’t exactly travel with them.”

He was going to paddle me eventually? A sudden rush of heat made me reflexively press my thighs together. “Well... you have your hand. And a belt.”

His closed-lip smile sent a wave of pure lust through me, so powerful my mouth dropped open and my breaths became more pronounced, my chest rising and falling visibly as he slowly walked toward me. The tight skin of his bare shoulders gleamed, so did his eyes as he looked down at me. It was so strange, how different he could be from one minute to the next. I’d read about that, too, the mindsets involved in Domination and submission. I wondered if I seemed different to him, too.

The fact that I was too timid to ask kind of clued me in that I probably did.

With one finger, he traced the long tendril of a fallen lock of hair down my neck, to my collarbone. “If I used a belt on you, you wouldn’t sit down for a week.”

My eyes fluttered closed as a shiver of anticipation raced down my arms. I had to get myself under some kind of control. Didn’t I? Or could he just do it for me?

“Sophie, come back to me,” he said gently, firmly, and I opened my eyes. “Nothing is going to happen tonight that you don’t want. But I do have an obligation to protect you from yourself at this point. No belts. Would you like to pick a safe word, or shall we use the traffic light again?”

“Red, yellow, green?” I ticked them off on my fingers. “That sounds good to me. Easier to remember.”

“Very good. And I trust you to use them. If there is anything you don’t want to do, you need only use the safe word.” He stepped back. “Undress, please.”

I didn’t hesitate. I whipped my sweater off, revealing my pink bra with dainty black polka dots on it, and black lace edging the cups. I wiggled out of my jeans, revealing the matching thong.

“Very pretty,” he said, his lids heavy as he regarded me. “Now, take your hair down.”

As I reached up and began pulling out bobby pins, he walked in a slow circle around me. His voice was low and dark as he asked, “You enjoy spanking then, Sophie?”

“I do.” More than enjoyed it. My pussy clenched at the memory of that sweet anticipation, the moment before his hand fell.

“’I do, Sir,’” he corrected me softly. “While we’re playing, you will call me Sir.”

“I do enjoy spanking, Sir,” I amended.

“Did you like it the first time I spanked you?” He stopped behind me and sank his fingers into my loosened hair, gently shaking the rest free. Pins fell to the carpeted floor and I heard them, that was how heightened my senses became when he was near me.

Concentrating was difficult, with his fingers moving languorously over my scalp. I bit my lip to stifle a moan before I answered. “Yes, Sir.”

“What did you like about it? Take your time,” he advised me. His chest brushed my shoulder blades, and this time I couldn’t suppress my whimper.

He leaned down, so his lips were beside my ear. “What was that?”

My clit throbbed in time to the slow circles he stroked through the roots of my hair. My hands strayed across the fronts of my thighs, tentatively covering my mound.

He stilled. “Don’t touch.” It took a surprising force of willpower to drop my arms to my sides. “Answer my question, Sophie.” His breath was hot across my earlobe.

“Tell me what you liked about me spanking you.”

“I liked...” I licked my lips. I shifted my feet on the carpet, but it didn’t ease the heaviness, the ache to be touched. I had a moment of fear; it had taken me only minutes to reach this intense state of longing. How would I make it through the rest of the night?

Focusing on my answer helped. “I liked waiting for it. The anticipation. And the way it felt.”

“What did it feel like?” He withdrew his fingers from my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders in a silky curtain. He moved away from me, only for a moment, to turn off the lamp. We stood in the near dark, with just the warm light from the lower level filtering up to us.

“It hurt. In a good way. And it felt naughty, like I had done something I wasn’t supposed to.” It was easier to speak when he wasn’t touching me. “I wouldn’t mind not being able to sit down. It’s like a fun souvenir.”

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