He opens his eyes and I shake my head. It’s easier to be open and honest when he’s not watching me.
Huh.Maybe I prefer the mask after all.
“Can you keep your eyes closed? Just for a second?”
He does as I’ve asked, closing his eyes without argument, and I continue. “I work with men. A lot of men, most of them arrogant assholes. They think I don’t belong in their world, but…” I lick my lips, then trace the line of his nose, trying to imagine what lies beneath the mask. “I do belong there. I’m damn good at what I do.”
His hand flexes on my hip and I take that as encouragement to continue.
“But if any of them called me a brat, or spoke to me like you do…” I laugh again, imagining it. “I’d have them neutered.”
He snorts, and I grin.
“I heard myself apologizing to you for giggling and I just… I felt weird. Like, like I wasn’t myself.”
Dominus makes a sound of understanding in his throat.
“I’m a beast at my job, but with you, I’m… I’m not. It’s like I’m suddenly someone else. I don’t even understand what happened between us in that bathroom, or why I wasn’t afraid. I’ve gone over it in my head repeatedly but can’t figure it out. I don’t even know you. I have no idea what you even look like!” I scoff, shaking my head as I scan his mask, trying to make sense of the planes of his face and put them into a face that I can imagine. “And I got on mykneesfor you like it was nothing, like doing so was totally normal—”
He pinches my hip and I yelp, then he moves quickly, throwing me over his shoulder as he stands in one swift movement.
I swing at his back—
Then I jerk as his hand comes down on my rear end, a firm, solidsmack.
My body’s response is swift and confusing. An intake of air, my mouth dropped open in shock, and then the answering rush of warmth between my legs.
I groan and go limp in his arms.
Nothing about this is normal.
“Your body wants what it wants. If you continue to question it, I will continue to respond the way I believe your body wants me to respond. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I say, the word breathy.
“Is thisnormal?” he asks.
I bite down on my lip and he tightens his grip around my thighs in warning. He’s giving me a choice: comply or… “Nope,” I say, bracing myself for the hit—
Smack!
The instant his hand connects with my ass, a breathy moan slips past my lips.
“You know what they call a man who handles brats?”
I squirm, but he’s got a viselike grip on my thighs.
“Answer me.”
“No, Sir.”
“A brat tamer.” He smacks my ass again and I cry out as that demanding pulse resumes between my legs. “I think it’s time to show you what we do around here with brats.” He strides over to the other side of the room and I try to lift my head to see what’s happening.
“Color?” he barks.
“Green,” I say, my body trembling with excitement.
He bends, placing me onto my feet, then straightens. The way he towers over me makes me have to crane my head back to look up at him. I’m not a small woman, by any means, but the only other man that makes me feel small like this is—
