"Good. You need to write two thousand words by the time I walk through that door each evening." I gesture toward the penthouse entry, voice dropping an octave. "If you succeed, I'll reward you. Fail, and I'll punish you."
Her breath hitches. Color floods her cheeks again, deeper this time. Not with embarrassment, but with heat. She shifts in her seat, thighs pressing together under the table.
"Punishment…" She tests the word, voice husky. "Like what?"
I lean forward, elbows on the table, closing the space. "We can start simple. Spanking, for one. Bare skin, with my hand or whatever implement fits the mood."
Eyes darkening, she bites her lower lip. Her fingers trace the stem of her water glass, circling the condensation.
"Does it... hurt? I mean, really hurt?"
"Yes." I don't soften it. "But within limits. We build to what you can take. Or other options. I can make you write an apology by hand, lines on paper while I watch. Or orgasm denial. Edge you close, then stop."
Her chest rises faster, a small sound escaping, half gasp, half moan. She crosses her legs tighter. "That sounds... intense."
"It is." I reach across, capture her hand, thumb brushing her knuckles. "But it will give you structure. A goal to meet every day and some motivation to reach it."
She holds my stare, pulse visible at her throat. Seconds pass. Then she nods once.
"Okay, let's do it."
"Well then, Sugar, I believe you've earned your first reward."
28
GRACE
“Did you like coming on my face last night?”
I can feel my cheeks burning up.
“Answer me,” he orders when I don’t respond immediately.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Would you like that again?”
Having to answer makes this feel even dirtier, and I know that’s what he wants, for me to agree to all the filthy things he wants to do to me.
“Yes, Sir.”
He nods, pleased. “Stand up.”
I quickly comply, pushing my chair back and standing from the table.
He stands as well, moving closer. His fingers graze my collarbone, trailing down to cup my breast. A thumb circles the peak, drawing a whimper from my throat.
"Good girl," he murmurs, lips brushing my ear. "You earned this."
I lean into his touch, nodding. His hand slides lower, under my shorts and panties until his fingers reach my heated core. One finger teases my folds, finding me slick already.
"Please," I whisper, hips shifting forward.
He chuckles, dark and promising. "Patience, Sugar. I decide how you come."
Asher's finger circles my clit once more, too slowly, before he withdraws. I whimper, hips bucking toward empty air.
“You won’t be needing these,” he says, gripping the edge of my shorts and yanking them down with my panties in one swoop. I gasp. He leads me to step out of them before kicking them off to the side. His palms travel up my body, smoothing over the bare skin of my legs and leaving goosebumps behind. When he reaches the hem of my t-shirt, he pulls it over my head and discards it with my shorts. And then his hands come behind my back so that he can unclasp my bra, letting my breasts fall. He palms each one intently, like he’s memorizing the feeling of them in his palms, pinching and grazing my nipples.
