“What what’s like?”
Lips numb, she wanted to rub life and feeling into them, was afraid to accidentally touch him. “The experience.” Somehow she knew he heard what she didn’t say, that she was wildly curious about herself and what really flipped her switch.
“What makes you think I’m your answer?”
Her only excuse was hormonally fueled determination. Otherwise? She never would have pulled his shirt out of his pants and scraped his ribs with her fingernails. His sharp intake of breath was followed by a slow hiss. Things low in her belly rolled over, begging to be stroked. A short jerk of his hips made her lips part on an exhale, her hands scrabbling to unbutton his silk shirt. He gripped her wrists, stopping her desperate scramble to divest him of clothes and get down to business. Confused, she looked up.
“Not yet, Red. Parameters. Where do you draw the hard lines I don’t cross?”
“Lines?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “My first directive was that you meet me at the end of the bar. You complied. Second directive is that you stop repeating every question I ask. Be a good girl and I’ll see you’re rewarded.”
Eden nodded so hard her earrings clinked. “Yes, sir,” she repeated, knowing it had pleased him moments ago. Swallowing a little pride could pay off handsomely.
“Let’s discuss boundaries. Where I’m concerned, no touching unless invited. You haven’t earned intimacy yet.” And you won’t. “That’s about it. What about you?”
Heat blazed across her cheeks. “I’m…not sure?”
“Okay. Let’s try this. Tell me one of your fantasies.”
Oh, dear goddess. “Fantasies?” Realizing her mistake, she slapped a hand over her mouth and mumbled, “Sorry.”
“Too late, sweetheart. Skirt up over your ass and grab the edge of the desk,” he said, even as he moved her into position.
“But I apologized.” The nearly shouted objection brought him to a standstill.
“Yes, but you still violated my directive. One swat for the minor infraction.” Smooth fingers traced up the back of her thighs as he lifted her short skirt. “A thong. I approve.”
Eden watched him pull a pair of scissors from the desk drawer. Before she could form an objection, he dragged the cold metal along her ass and snipped the lace, tugging the scrap of material free. The trace of soft material over her skin, the hard scrape of nails down her thighs and the brush of lace hitting her ankles when it fell made her sway. Lips followed the same path upward. Smooth kisses, a tactile tongue, little nips—they made her knees weak. The sharp crack of his palm on her ass elicited a surprised yelp. Masculine fingers traced the sting, and she moaned. At the sound, his fingers briefly dug into her ass and made her push into his hand. What. The. Hell. Never had someone turned her on so quickly, so effortlessly. She wanted what he offered. Didn’t understand the compulsion to satisfy him. “Why?” she asked, the single word forming an unsteady question that hung between them long enough that she was sure he’d ignore her. Then he answered.
“You have a gift, Red. You started the descent into subspace when I grabbed you by the neck in the club. Most submissives have to be taught to find that place inside themselves. You’re a natural.”
“You think I haven’t done this before?”
“No.”
She relaxed.
“I know you haven’t.” Stepping in behind her, his unfurling zipper made the most erotic noise she’d ever heard. The broad head of his cock brushed over the crevice of her ass.
Eden flinched. “Maybe not…that.”
“That?” The amusement in his tone was clear. “And what is ‘that,’ precisely?”
Burying her face in her forearms seemed prudent. “Anal.”
“Ah. Anal. One of my favorite things. Shame you aren’t interested.”
That was something she wasn’t willing to share. Not the physical act, but the fact she was interested.
Very, very interested.
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