Page 103 of Axe Marks the Spot

“Red.”

“If you want to keep going, what do you say when I ask?”

“Green, Sir.”

“And if you want me to slow down?”

“Yellow, Sir.”

“Good girl. Now get on your knees.” I sit forward in my chair and spread my thighs. “And crawl to me.”

31

Lindsey

“C-CRAWL, SIR?” I FUMBLE over my words.

He lifts a dark eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

The vibrations against my clit pulse, and I shake my head. It’s not a problem per se, but it is embarrassing. I know that’s kind of the point, and while I said it interested me on my questionnaire, I don’t need to remember that to know it excites me. The wetness that floods my underwear is proof of that. I’ve just never done it before or ever thought I’d hear a man say those words to me.

“No, Sir,” I say.

“Then don’t make me ask again.”

The force of his words clicks something into place in my brain, and I push my chair back from the table. My knees touch the hardwood floor, and I stifle a groan. This position lightens the vibrations against my clit but somehow makes them ten times more intense.

I inhale and place my hands on the ground. My dress is short, so it no longer covers my ass, and the air of the cabin brushes against the backs of my thighs and my heated sex. It’s a reminder that I’m about to crawl to a man.

Deeper heat pools in my belly, and my nipples are painfully hard like they always are around Dane. I don’t lift my gaze, knowing if I look at him, the rational side of my brain may tell me to stop. But I don’t want to stop. I want this; I want to please him.

I put one hand forward and begin to crawl the short distance to him. It only takes me a few seconds, but in those seconds, I take another inhale and exhale, allowing myself to sink into the feeling of surrender.

When I’m in front of his spread legs, I stop, and he reaches out and lifts my chin with his pointer finger. Our eyes connect, and all my feelings of embarrassment and humiliation go away when I see the approval in his gaze.

“Such a pretty thing when you submit. Do you want to continue?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He strokes my chin before he pulls his hand back to his knee. “Kneel in the position I showed you, eyes on me.”

I sit back on my haunches, spreading my knees and placing my palms open on top of them. The vibrations from the toy ebb and flow against me, but he’s turned it to the lowest setting so I’m able to keep my focus on him.

Dane’s hand reaches out again, and I think he’s going to touch my chin, but instead, he takes hold of the wave necklace I’m wearing. He tugs on it, not hard enough to break it but enough that the delicate chain bites into my skin. His eyes simmer, and whatever he’s thinking is something he clearly likes, because his breathing turns heavier. I want to know what it is, but it’s not my turn to speak. Like he said, I’m on his clock now.

He drops the chain a moment later. “Undo your halter.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I knew when I came here that there was a strong potential for getting naked. It’s why I scrubbed and shaved everything down. But now…now, it’s real. He’s here, I’m on my knees in front of him, and he’s going to see my body for the first time.

Dane must see my hesitation, because his gaze softens. “Those tight little nipples have been taunting me since the first day we met.” His eyes trail down to my chest. “Put me out of my misery, and let me see the beautiful tits that belong to me.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and lift up my hands. If I hesitate any longer, I may chicken out, and I don’t want to. I want to be good for him. I reach behind my neck and quickly untie the knot of the halter.

The top of my dress falls, pooling at mid-waist. The cooler air brushes across my already tight nipples, turning them into hard buds that hurt.

“Good girl,” Dane praises. “Now take a breath for me.” I do as he asks, and my shoulders ease. “That’s it, you’re doing so well.”

My muscles relax further, and after another breath, I almost forget I’m nearly naked and kneeling in front of the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life. A man who’s chosen me. A man who’s also chosen me to be the first one to be in his space. The man who, by his words and actions, has told me we’re exclusive—at least intimately.