“And if I asked you to climb up onto that bed, would you obey?”
To my left, movement catches my eye as someone enters the room. I try to turn my head, but Dominus keeps his grip firm, holding my head where he wants it.
“Ignore them and answer your Dom.”
“Yes, Sir,” I say, “if…” I swallow hard. “If that is what you want.”
He hums and the sound travels through his mask like tires over gravel. “I’m here to discover whatyouwant, pet.”
I consider his words, but more movement happens just beyond my eyeline and I tense at the idea of people watching this moment between us.
“Perhaps you’d prefer to be on the other side of this scenario. Perhaps you’d like to be hidden in the shadows, on your knees, tucked safely between your Dominant’s legs while you watch the scene unfold, hm?”
My shoulders shake as a shiver of lust rolls through me.
“You marked voyeurism as a three, pet; I think we’ll have to explore that a little more. Do you agree?” He tilts my head back, fingers digging gently into the sides of my throat.
“Yes, Sir.”
“As you wish.” Keeping his hand on my neck and my head tilted upward to the black ceiling above, he looks past me, scanning the room for something or someone, then he jerks his head and someone approaches. With the way he has my head tilted upward, I can’t see them; only the sound of their shoes clicking on the cement beneath our feet alerts me to their approach, then the sound of those same heeled-feet retreating follows.
He slides his hand down the column of my throat, over my chest, then settles it into the crook of my shoulder and leads me to a dark corner of the room. There’s a private viewing area over here, with a single cushioned chair, one ottoman, and one satin floor pillow, but nothing else. We enter the room and he closes the door behind us.
“The glass is darkened so that we can see out, but no one can see in.” He slides his hand around the back of my head and tugsmy hair until I tilt back to look up at him. “Are you bare beneath that skirt, Sutton?”
I nod, swallowing hard, both motions difficult with the way he holds my head backward. “Yes,” I finally say. “Yes, Sir, I’m bare for you.”
His fingers flex against my scalp. “Show me.”
With that single, sexy command, he releases me, then lowers into the chair, spreading his legs apart widely.
My breathing is shallow, my pulse racing as I take a second to look at him. He’s in an open dress shirt today, the white collar a stark contrast to the tan of his skin and the black leather mask. I drink him in, memorizing his body, from the broad expanse of his shoulders, down through that patch of dark hair dusting his chest muscles to the ridges of his abdomen—
“Are you going to misbehave tonight, brat?”
I startle, then chew on the inside of my cheek and shake my head. “N-no, Sir.”
But the way my body responds would beg to differ. Iwantto misbehave for this man. I want to see how he’ll react when I do.
But,god, how weird is that? Maybe I should focus on something real instead of whatever this is. Find a nice guy, settle down—
“That’s a shame,” Dominus says, and as he watches me, my stomach twists itself into knots. After a long stretch of uncomfortable silence, he tilts his head. “You seem unsure.”
Because I am.
I’d long ago convinced myself I just wasn’t as sexual as other women. I certainly never needed hook-ups or random one-nighters the way Mo seems to enjoy. And Brynn is a serial-monogamer; if she’s not in a relationship, she’s on the apps, accepting date invites like they’re going out of style and spending precious time with every Tom, Dick, or Harry until she finds her nextThe One.
All of that seems so… complicated. Tiring. I’ve never truly understood the need to be with someone when being alone is just so much less of a headache.
Dominus adjusts himself, drawing my attention to the way his erection strains against his jeans.
Oh sweet baby Jesus.
“Did you come here for a punishment tonight?”
My eyes flick back up to his, though in the darkness of this room, I’m left staring into dark, endless depths.DidI come here for a punishment? My body sure seems to think so. I can barely hear past the rush of blood in my ears. My pulse races a mile a minute. My core tenses and flexes every time Dominus speaks, and when I press my thighs together to find some sort of relief, they’re slick with arousal.
“Answer me, brat. I don’t like waiting.”
