I shouldn’t let his dismissal disappoint me, but somehow it does. He doesn’t want me here with him tonight, and I should be happy that he doesn’t. I get to steal a moment away from his utter control and mastery over me. From his anger and passion and wicked punishments. I have some time to myself.
Then why does it make me feel a little sad?
Pausing in the doorway between his living room and the bedrooms, I ask tentatively, “Which bed tonight, sir?”
“Yours,” he says without looking my way.
I turn from him, my head bowed. I’ve somehow let him down. I’ve failed, and I don’t know why. I hate myself for even caring, but I do. Tonight was supposed to be different, but I’m not exactly sure how. When I undress, I remember the stupid pink vibrator thing he’s stuck in me. How could I forget when its heavy weight presses up against my private parts? But he hasn’t activated it in hours. With a grimace, I contemplate tugging it out, sex the furthest thing from my mind. I look around the room, wondering where the hell to put this thing, when his voice sounds behind me.
“Leave it.”
His voice behind me makes my heart flutter in my chest. He’s not ignoring me anymore. Maybe he isn’t rejecting me like I thought. Why do I care?
But I do. God, I do.
I turn to him, stark naked, my fingers still on the little device, and my cheeks flame. The scent of my arousal fills the room. I can’t look at him. I couldn’t cross the room to go to him if he asked. He draws me to his chest and lifts me up in his arms, cupping my butt and swinging my legs around him.
“No more asking questions, kisa,” he says. “In fact, no more talking at all. I wish to forget tonight and much of what we talked about.” His whiskered lips come to my ear. “I told you double payment and pleasure were yours if you behaved, and you’ve been a perfect angel, fitting for one of those art displays at the museum.”
“Ew, no,” I say with a small laugh. “Those creep me out.”
And when he chuckles, my heart does a crazy little skip in my chest. I like my passionate master so much more than the brooding one.
“I said no more words now, kisa. Unless you wish to be punished.”
I shake my head and clamp my lips shut, but seconds later he captures my mouth with his. I moan, closing my eyes when heat and pressure build at my core. He’s worked me toward orgasm all night long, and when he grips my ass in his hands and squeezes, I press my pelvis against him, needing friction and pressure.
“Filthy little slut,” he whispers approvingly in my ear. “She needs her master’s cock to tame her.”
I nod in silence, boldly skimming my hand along his shoulder. He leads us to the bed, stands me in front of him, and orders, “Strip me.”
With trembling hands, I do as he says, unfastening every button on his shirt before I slide it off. The crisp fabric gives way to strong, sturdy arms and shoulders. Without a word, I bend down and kiss the rose tattoo, in memory of his farewell to childhood. When my lips meet his skin, he closes his eyes and releases a deep, shuddering sigh. I slide myself on his lap and he holds me with his arms around my lower back. I bunch up his t-shirt and lift it over his head, bracing myself as he raises his arms so I can bare him, then settling back on his lap when he holds me to him again. I take a moment to appreciate the strength and breadth of his chest, tracing a finger along every tattoo on his skin.
I drag my mouth along his neck and lower still to kiss his bicep. Tentatively, I glide my mouth to his chest and let my tongue graze his nipple. I wonder if he’ll stop me but he only chuckles, his cock twitching against my ass.
“Naughty malyshka.”
I brace myself on his lap, holding onto both muscled shoulders, as I hump my pelvis against him. My clit throbs, my core tight and needy for him, but I haven’t finished stripping him yet. I glide off his lap, making him groan, and fall to my knees in front of him. My hands at his waist, I clumsily unfasten his belt, remembering how he took it off and spanked me in front of his men. How he looped it around my neck to make me behave the first time I sucked him off. When it’s free from its loops, he takes it from my hand, doubles it over, and snaps it. I flinch, but even as my heart skips a beat, a tingle of anticipation weaves its way through me.