Check.
Kneel in the center of the bed.
Check.
I look down. Nothing but tiny black briefs. Che—fuck, my socks.
I’m mid-hop off the bed when I hear the front door open. I freeze. Fuck, already? When I left, he said he would give me atwenty-minute head start. It’s only been… I look down at my watch. Shit, twenty minutes.
I can hear Dom walking up the stairs, but the way the floorboards are creaking, it’s all slow and suspenseful, making me giddy with excitement.
Socks. Focus, Beckett, socks. I tug at the tip of my right sock, then wobble around awkwardly on one foot. The bedroom door opens, and I give one last yank on the superhuman material before toppling over onto the bed.
“Hello, little mouse. Did we have a hard time following orders?”
I look up and freeze, one sock still hanging off my big toe.I swear to God, it’s swinging.“No, I mean… kinda?” I shrug.
“Let’s see. You’re lying in the middle of the bed but not kneeling. That’s offense number one.” Dom moves further into the room, reaching over his head and removing his shirt. He walks along the bed, his fingertips skating up my thigh. “I’m almost positive I said no clothes except for these tiny briefs that just barely hide your cock.” He cups my junk and gives it a tight squeeze.Fuck, fuck, fuck.“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned?” I knew the moment those words left my mouth that they should’ve stayed in my head.Okay, no, not really.
“Four, little mouse.”
YES!
I let out a whimper of embarrassing proportions, but on the inside I’m squealing like a kid in a candy store. Is tonight the night? Please let tonight be the night.
Edging. My preferred kink. I can edge myself for hours. It’s one perk of living alone. But I’ve never been edged by another person.
I eye my conquest up and down. I bet he’s playing the long game.He’s totally playing the long game… Ugh, dammit!
I really try to tamp down my excitement but fail miserably when I give a little wiggle.
“Try again,” he says, tightening his fist around my dick and giving it a harder squeeze.
“Well,” I squeak. “I was kneeling on the bed just like you said.” He kisses his way up my neck. “But I realized I forgot…” The scrape of his teeth against my earlobe makes it impossible for me to word at the moment.Fuck,I need to word.“Forgot… socks.” Dom glides his lips down my neck to my collarbone. “Socks! I forgot I had sockson.” His other hand is busy roaming every inch of my body, causing me to shiver at the hot, wet mouth in contrast to the cold, soft fingertips.
I don’t know all the rules of this little game, but I’d better be able to touch him. My mouth will never leave the mountains of his tattooed muscles. I’ll lick every valley in his six-pack abs. I’d drink from his fountain of youth.
Sweet Jesus, Beckett. That’s not fucking creepy at all.
I reach for Dom with grabby hands—because I’m very adult-like—but he moves away. A growl that I’ve never heard before in my life escapes through a low rumble in my chest.
He chuckles. “Lie down first, then you can be a greedy muscle whore.”
I flop back and exhale a mumble. “I want to hang from them like a fruit bat.”
His mouth twitches. “Soon, little mouse, now be still.” He gets off the bed and goes to the closet.
From this angle, I can’t see what he’s doing. The faint slide of the door, the soft rustle of fabric… then he steps back into view in just his faded jeans and a single silk tie looped through his fingers.
My dick gives a shiver of delight.
The jeans ride low on his hips, ink curling over his chest and down his arms, eyes dark and intent. That rich blue silk glintsbetween his fingers. It’s obscene how good he looks. I’m half sure I stop breathing.
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
He hears it. His gaze dips over me, pausing at the stretch in my black briefs, the way I’m already hard for him. A slow, satisfied smile curves his mouth as he stalks back to the bed, his large frame casting a shadow over me.
