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She sucked in a breath. What did she want? She’d liked it the other night when he’d managed to make her busy brain take a break and just chill.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she opened them and stared at him through the mirror. “I want that.”
“Brave girl. Remember, you can always use your safeword. At any time. You have the kill switch.”
She nodded.
“I want you to use words when replying to me so there is no misunderstanding. And you’ll call me Sir or Butch.”
“Yes, Sir.” Her clit throbbed. Oh, she enjoyed calling him Sir. A lot.
And she thought from the way he looked at her that he liked it too.
“That’s my very good girl. Now, just to remind you, I’m in charge right now. All you need to worry about is doing what I say.” He kissed along the back of her neck.
Fuck. She’d agree to anything if he kept touching her like that.
“Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Hmm, are you going to be my good little girl? Are you going to do everything that I tell you? Maybe you will, because I know that you don’t want to add to the punishment you’re already owed.”
She pouted. He was so mean.
She took back all the nice things she’d thought about him.
“Now, what have I told you about pouting? Put that away, pretty girl. Or I’ll have to kiss it off your lips.”
Um, he realized that wasn’t a punishment, right?
He partially unzipped the dress, then tugged at the puffy sleeves. “Put your arms through the sleeves. Good girl,” he praised as she did as ordered. She’d do whatever he told her to if he kept speaking to her in that voice. “Now, I want you to put your hands on the counter and only move them when I tell you to.”
He unzipped the dress completely
Shit . . . here it was. The moment when he would take a look at her and run in the opposite direction.
Then she remembered something just as he was tugging the dress down.
“What the hell?” he asked, running his finger over the contraption she was wearing underneath. “What is this?”
“It’s shapewear. It keeps all the squishy parts in place, and it means there aren’t any lumps or seams from your panties or anything. I’m sorry, I know it’s not attractive. I really wish I had some sexy lingerie on. Of course, that means I’d have to go and buy some sexy lingerie.”
He turned her around and kissed her. Damn. She needed to ramble more often. She’d become a rambling, pouting mess.
Okay, maybe not. But those kisses were the best thing she’d ever experienced.
Hopefully, there’s more to come.
“Stop, baby. You could be wearing a burlap sack and I wouldn’t care. I just . . . how the hell do you get this thing off?”
“Um, with great difficulty,” she admitted. “Could you turn around?”
He frowned.
“Please,” she begged. “This really isn’t going to be pretty. There will be a lot of grunting and groaning. And maybe a dislocated shoulder.”
“I could help.”
She shook her head. “I got this. Swear.”
Grumbling, he turned around and faced the door. “You have one minute, then I’m helping you.”
Shoot. The race was on. Anyone who had worn this stuff before knew just how difficult it could be to get on and off. But she moved in record time. It was nearly off when there was a knock on the hotel room door.
“That will be room service. I’ll be back.”
She very nearly did end up dislocating her shoulder, but she finally got it off. Then she quickly jumped in the shower to wash before he returned.
She’d just wrapped a towel around herself when he walked back in.
His gaze narrowed as he took her in. “You had a shower without me?”
“Just a short one.”
“Turn back around. Hands on the counter.”
Oh fuck. She’d tucked the ends of the towel in, so it didn’t come loose as she placed her hands on the counter. But she knew she wouldn’t be wearing it for long.
“Legs apart,” he commanded. “Look at me in the mirror.”
Her gaze met his, and a wave of arousal hit her at the look on his face. He was hungry and she was his prey.
And she wouldn’t have it any other way.
To her surprise, rather than undoing the top of the towel, he reached a hand underneath it to cup her ass cheek.
His grin was decidedly wolfish. “Tell me, baby girl. Are you wet? Is your clit throbbing? Do you need me to touch your clit? To stroke it? And before you think about lying, remember that there are only truths between us. All lying will end in punishment. Oh, and don’t think I missed that sorry just before. That’s twenty-seven.”
Drat.
She didn’t even remember saying sorry.
Shoot. Her bottom was really going to pay the price for her mouth running away on her.
