Why is it that this time, I’m filled with the inexplicable wish that Iwashis? Even though he’d punish me.
Okay, so this I think I know the answer to. “You’d punish me so I learn to be obedient.” I nod my head, pleased at my response. I deserve a gold star for that one.
I realize with a quick thump of my heart that the way he nods in approval is even better than a gold star.
“Yes. Because not only does your behavior reflect on me as master of this club, but because you asked me to protect and watch over you. Since you’re new, I would take it easy on you the first time.”
I shiver at the implication: the next time, he’ll be harsher.
Why does eventhatexcite me?
“You went from one dangerous situation to another, only in this one, I have a lot more control over what happens.” His tone sharpens. “You’re only safe inasmuch as you follow my rules.”
Okay, alright, we can go with this. I lick my dry lips.
“Right,” I whisper. “And if I… were yours… that would be the wrong thing to do.” I nod like a good little student.
“Exactly. I would put you over my lap. That’s not always the way it would go.”
Hoo-boy. Okay then.
Do I want to experience this, or not?
Yes, yes, so much yes.
I nod and shift my feet as I watch him pull out the desk chair. He folds his strong, sexy body into the chair, spreads his knees, and reaches for my hand. It feels so little and soft in his larger, rougher one.
“If you were mine, I’d lay you over my lap.”
When he tugs my hand, I pull back. I brace my legs and stand stock-still.
I can’t do this.
I tell myself to move my feet, to do what he says, but they seem to be made of lead. I try to lift one foot, then the other, but I can’t move them at all. Suddenly, the thought of putting myself into that position doesn’t sound sexy at all.
Then why is my pulse racing so crazily?
“I, uh, I’m not so sure about this,” I begin. I want to remind him that I’m not actually his, but I’m not so sure I want to give voice to those thoughts.
“I wouldn’t allow you to stall,” he says sharply. “If you didn’t lay yourself over my lap by the time I counted to ten, we’d begin with a visit to my closet.”
Uh, what is that supposed to mean?What?
“Your closet?”
“Ten.”
“Wait, what the heck is in your closet?”
Is this not hypothetical?
“Nine.”
“Thayer!”
“Eight.”
“Okay, okay.” Do they all do this? Is this normal?
