The steel gaze across the room held no laughter. Dane meant business. My eyes snagged on the movement when he lifted his arm. For a second, hope bloomed, only to be crushed as he pointed down with his index finger. He was dead serious. I stared at him, mouth agape.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” His voice sent tingles down my spine.
My breath faltered.
“Let’s try this again. Do you want to be a good girl for me?”
“Yes.” I didn’t recognize the sultry tone in my voice.
My pulse skidded as I sank to my knees, scraping against the hard floor. It hurt, but I’d knelt on cut glass before. This was nothing.
Why does this feel degrading? Maybe because it is.
Only a second in and I was already second guessing my actions. When I stared across the room, his eyes were still on me. All hesitation vanished, and I fell on all fours. As his eyes darkened, I knew I had made the right choice.
My toes curled as my shins slid against the floor and my palms ached. I was grateful for how clean it was because there weren’t any rocks to lodge into my skin. The only sound was the crackling from the fireplace. My breasts felt heavy, my hips swaying as I made my way across the room.
“We’re choosing a safe word. Do you know what that is?” His voice practically dripped with Alpha sway, that pull meant to command Omegas, but he didn’t need it here. My thighs clenched, goosebumps breaking across my skin. His voice was so damn sexy.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Yes, what?” he asked, the warning clear in his voice. I peeked up at him.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, cheeks flushing.
“Choose, or shall I?” His tone stayed nonchalant as I crawled closer. My hands reached the soft rug first, followed by my knees. It was so soft, I almost sighed.
“Choose for me,” I murmured, stopping in front of him. I sat back, lifted my chin, and looked up at him. His eyes glinted as he stared back.
“Green, for you’re good. Yellow, for when you’re unsure and want me to proceed with caution. And red, for when you want everything to stop. Can you remember these?” He was the epitome of control. The green light system was something I’d read about a thousand times; it was easy to hand over control, and that should have scared me.
“Easily,” I hummed.
A pleased look crossed his stoic expression, and I sat straighter.
I like that. I want to make him do it again.
My chin dipped, my gaze snagging on the steady, rhythmic thud of his hand against his thigh.
I looked back up at him before my focus returned to his thigh. My brows kissed as he did it again. My throat clogged. I knew what he wanted, but I hesitated. If I did what I was thinking and it was wrong, I’d look like an idiot. I didn’t want to. Instincts buried deep whispered this was right. I nibbled on my lip so fiercely, it bled, but hope bloomed in my chest. He might be offering what I needed.
“Green?”
“Green,” I croaked.
His jawline ticked. I scooted closer until I was between his legs. I looked up, checking for approval. Messy brown hair fell effortlessly off his temple, thick lips begged to be kissed, and my mouth watered with the need to lick any inch of flesh he would allow. My fingers twitched with the urge to explore and trace every line and swirl of ink-stained skin.
My core tightened, and my heart shook with the possibility. He patted his thigh once more and I swallowed the dry lump in my throat before accepting my fate. I lowered my head until my cheek touched the inside of his thick thigh. I fought the urge to nuzzle the bulge that ran down his thigh, and squeezed my eyes tight as I waited to see if I had made a mistake. Somewhere along the way, I had held my breath. I released it. My eyes flew open as he touched my hair, running his fingers along my scalp; my lashes fluttered.
I had Snarled multiple men, showing them intimate images of myself. They’d seen things no one, but my mate should see. I’d gone on dates with strangers and blown one in his car. Knots. I had slept with someone else recently. But when his nails scraped my scalp, and trailed down the side of my face before he cupped my cheek, it felt more intimate than everything I had done withthe other men combined. He touched my lips, and I tilted my head back. His eyes locked on my mouth as he pulled my bottom lip down. My tongue darted out and flicked the pad of his thumb. His eyes drained of all color and his finger abruptly left my lips. All tenderness vanished as his hand gripped my jaw, the tips of his fingers pressed into my temples. My nipples hardened as he leaned down until we were eye level.
“Do Daddy a favor and take my cock out. I need your lips on me,” he growled.
My mouth opened and closed as my brain scrambled. I’d read smut like this, a fantasy come to life. But faced with the real thing, I was gobsmacked. He cocked his head, eyes narrowing.
“Babygirl,” he warned, his breath fanned my cheeks.
I knew he didn’t like repeating himself, but the promise of what might happen if I disobeyed one more time called to me like a siren’s song. I lifted my hands from my lap, placing them on his thigh. He released me and leaned back. Slowly, I slid my palms up, purposely brushing over the outline of his cock until I reached the taut skin of his inked abdomen.
