“There’s a lot to think about.”
“Not here, there isn’t. Now keep touching yourself, Sunny.Or else.” The threat fills the narrow space between his mouth and my ear, and in a flash, everything disappears but the feel of this moment.
Oh, okay. Yeah. That does it.
“Or else what?” Now that he’s shown me this new mystery door, all I want to do is open it. “Sir?” I gasp, shutting my eyes against all the possibilities.
Will he make me do other things? Dirty things? Sexy things? Will he use those big, rough hands on my skin? Spank me the way that person’s getting spanked in the corner? What if he made me go down on him in front of this crowd?
The real me wouldn’t stand for that. Ever.
A liquid pulse, deep in my core, proves me a liar.
Okay, fine. Outside the club walls, I’d prefer to blend into the background and let someone else have the limelight. Not to mention the whole part where I don’t let men order me around in my real life. Or in any way diminish me. No more Brendans making me feel small and silly.
This me, though? Someday, when I’ve gotten past the initial weirdness of being here? I could maybe see myself beingreallyinto spanking—public or not.
“If you defy me, sweet girl, you get punished.” His voice is close and low, so quiet I can barely hear him.
Wow.None of what he’s doing is like the Dom I’d pictured in my head. It’s better, so much better. This guy doesn’t yell. Hedoesn’t have to. Why raise your voice when a skin-licking whisper does the trick?
Punished.
The word sends a fresh wave of frenzied need through my veins, along with a dozen freeze-frame flashes of possibility. Pain, sex, voyeurism. I didn’t want half those things coming in here, but now? I’d take them all. Anything. All of it. Make it rough. Make it last.
He doesn’t go that way, obviously. That route is too easy for the man who made massage sexy again. I see now, with every fresh unveiling of his Machiavellian plans, that a real Dom doesn’t have to yell or hurt ormakehis sub do a damn thing. A real Dom suggests.
And a sub? A real sub?
Well, based on the current state of my underwear, I’m guessing a real sub begs for whatever her Dom will give her. And then begs for more.
“What’s the punishment?” I ask.
“Depends. I could stop.”
“No! No, definitely not that.”
His eyes crinkle into what could almost be a smile. “Punishments would typically be negotiated before a scene.”
“Like spanking? Or… flogging or something?”
He’s outright grinning now. “Possibly.”
“Wow. Okay. But I mean, I won’t defy you,” I spit out in a pathetically rushed whisper. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Good girl.” A slight shifting of my weight in his arms, a gentle stroke on my cheek, just the back of his finger, barely touching, and I’m squirming in my seat. “You like the idea, though.”
“I don’t… I don’t… know. No. I… Yes. Yes, I do.” My eyesstrain toward him as a huff of laughter escapes me. “Honestly, I’m a mess.”
“You’re a beautiful mess, Sunny. Gorgeous.”
With the next scary flip-flop of my stomach, I get it. All of it. This man’s power isn’t about being a bully. It’s more subtle than that. He’s a freaking hypnotist. He gets you with kindness, with care. The compliments, the control, the suggestions… all of it has turned me into a baser version of myself. A little needy, very excited, and, if I’m to believe this man, beautiful.
Here’s the thing. I’ve been complimented before, even told I was pretty, but I never quite believed it the way I do in this moment. This guy wouldn’t lie. Why should he? And, even if he were a master at it, he couldn’t fake the quick thump of his heart against my ear or the shakiness of his breathing. He’s as excited by this exchange as I am.
It feels amazing.
I’ve just opened my mouth to tell him so when the whip cracks behind me. My shoulders tense up, the General curses under his breath, and the murmur of conversation around us shifts gears.
