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“I didn't know my parents,” he said. “Kick off those heels.”
I did so.
“Ask.”
“Where did you grow up?”
Rough fingers turned me around so that my back was to him. “Take off those jeans.”
My hands were numb. I could hardly think straight. I felt him hovering behind me, a vast presence that could not be held by his physical body. I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down over my hips. They pooled on the floor and I stepped out of them.
“Didn't I say you were not to wear panties?” he asked from behind me.
All the hair on my body stood on end. I'd forgotten, or I hadn't thought he was serious. I should have known better.
“Take them off.”
No, I thought. No, I am important, too.
“Where did you grow up?” I asked him again. I had to force my hands to stay at my sides, even though every bell in my head was ringing. Fight or flight. Fuck or flee.
He took his sweet damn time. “Florida,” he finally said. “Now. Remove your panties.”
For a moment I hesitated. He needed me to obey him. He needed to be in control at all times. Even when he was bargaining away his secrets, he had to have that illusion. If I put on my clothes right now, what would he do?
I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and pushed them down.
A hand alighted on my back as they reached the floor, before I could straighten again.
“On your hands and knees,” he said.
Licking my lips, I did so. The wood of the floor bit into my skin, but I lowered myself to the ground and assumed the position he required. Naked, my bare ass pointed at him. I was staring at the door that led to the bathroom, and outside the sounds of traffic were still loud on the street.
I heard him move behind me, and then his warm, thick fingers were working their way between my thighs, cupping my sex. He stroked his index finger up my slit and I moaned.
“Ask.”
Fuck. How can I think about anything but this? I fought through the fog of arousal.
“Who raised you?”
His hand on me stilled, and I knew I had struck something inside him.
He retreated, and I wanted to bite my tongue off. Rustling came from behind me and curiosity burned a hole through my head, but I didn't dare look at him. I knew instinctively that I had pushed him further than he was willing to go.
Something cool and leather slipped around my throat, then tightened and I inhale
d sharply.
A collar.
He'd collared me like a dog.
I guess he could have a dog and fuck it, too. Goddammit.
The snap of a clip closing, and a sinuous slither of leather caressed my back. Then he tugged on the leash, and I felt a dark wave of pleasure swell up inside.
“I raised me, Felicia,” he whispered. “And I think we are at the end of our questions for today.”
