He looked down at me and his face softened. For a moment, I thought he might tell me I should be frightened and that I should leave. Instead, he crouched in front of me so that our faces were closer to being level.
“How many people have you had sex with, Amy?” he asked softly.
“One.”
“An old boyfriend?”
I nodded.
“And what was it like? Missionary and vanilla? Awkward and boring?”
I made a face like I didn’t want to talk about it with him, and he laughed. “What I’m trying to say is that sex isn’t always what they show you in the movies.”
I glared at him. “I know that! I know that people can be... kinky.”
His lips twitched, but he tried to hide it. The condescending gesture provided the anger I needed to voice what I really thought.
“What I’m worried about is that you don’t just like to control women, you like to dominate them.”
There, I’d said it without saying it. Dallon King wasn’t just into a few spankings in the bedroom; he was into full out bondage and domination. On top of that, he was into documenting the entire process and keeping photographic evidence like conquests.
He straightened to his full height. “You are correct, Amy,” he said with a slight shrug. “I do like to dominate women. It turns me on immensely.”
I swallowed. How could he be so nonchalant about it? Shouldn’t he be a tiny bit ashamed? I rubbed my arms. It suddenly felt chilly, like his anger had sucked out all the warmth in the room. My knees were sore on the wood, and I put my hands under them.
“You are in a very submissive position, Amy. Are you uncomfortable?”
“My knees are hurting.”
He didn’t respond, only continued to look at me as if waiting for something.
“May I stand up now?” I asked.
He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you may.”
I got to my feet quickly, and Dallon strode over to the studio doors and closed them. My heart began to race again; apparently he didn’t plan for us to leave. He turned a dial on the wall and the lights dimmed.
“Come here,” he said in a deceptively soft voice.
I hesitated for a moment and saw his eyes narrow. I went to him, afraid of angering him further or wanting to please him, I wasn’t sure. When I was close enough, he put a hand out and cupped my cheek.
“You weren’t meant to find those.”
My eyes darted to the door behind him.
He picked me up suddenly and carried me over to the bed, where he sat and stood me between his legs. Then his mouth was on mine. He smelled amazing, and I found myself returning his kiss, the memories of the photos slipping away as my heart began to race with excitement rather than fear. How was it that a simple kiss could make me forget all the images I’d seen? I should have bolted for the door when I’d had the chance.
He pulled of his shirt and then pulled mine off as well, dropping both on the floor.
“Take off the bra.”
I hesitated, but only for a second; his eyes told me that I didn’t want to refuse. Clumsily, I undid the clasp and placed the bra in his outstretched hand.
“You have beautiful breasts,” he murmured. He reached out with one hand and tugged at my nipple. It hardened instantly. Then he cupped my breasts with both hands, using his thumbs to gently massage my nipples while he spoke. My legs weakened, and I struggled to stay still in the standing position.
“You will not come into this room again unless accompanied by me, understood?” His voice was soothing, hypnotic.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly.
“Say you understand.”
“I understand.”
I was shaking slightly, from nerves or excitement, I didn’t know. He was looking into my eyes the way he had the other night in his bedroom, a slight hardness to his features. Now I knew what it meant: he was in dominant mode. But unlike the other night, I knew that this time he wasn’t going to stop himself.
“The things you do to me, Amy,” he whispered, trailing a finger from my navel to the waistband of my jeans. His voice was low, seductive. “You’re a natural in so many ways.”
He unbuttoned my pants, revealing a pink and white striped thong. His lips quirked up and then he put both hands under the waistband at the back, cupping my backside briefly before pulling my jeans and panties down at the same time.
“I started off with a look, thinking I knew what type of woman I was after, but you blew me away.”
He held me as I stepped out of them, and then pushed them aside with his foot, his eyes never leaving mine. I was standing naked in front of him for the first time, and my first instinct was to cover myself.
“Don’t hide from me,” he said softly. “You’re beautiful. You should never hide.”
He began kissing my neck, moving down to my breasts, his hands on my hips. Then he slipped a finger inside me, and I moaned involuntarily, reaching out to put my arms around him. He had one finger inside, his thumb circling my clitoris. Like the other night, all rational thought left me and I was only sensation, standing before Dallon moaning and no longer embarrassed.
“You’ve figured me out, Amy,” he whispered in my ear, “but I’ve figured you out too. Your body responds to me. You can’t pretend you’ve never fantasized about being dominated before.”
I didn’t speak, didn’t try to deny it, only laid my cheek against his shoulder as I struggled to keep standing. Dallon held me with one arm and stood, unbuckled his pants slowly. My eyes widened and he smirked, pulling himself out with one hand. With a flick of his eyes, he gestured to the floor, and I sank as if controlled my some invisible force.
“Have you done this before?”
I shook my head, my mouth dry.
“Look at me and don’t look away.”
I tilted my head up and our eyes locked.
“Put out your tongue.”
I obeyed, and he reached out and gently cupped my head with his one hand.
“Don’t look away from me.”
With his other hand, he tilted his penis down onto my tongue and moved it back and forth, back and forth, slowly. His mouth parted and I heard his breathing quicken. Then he gently pushed my head lower, and I took a ball into my mouth, sucking gently.
“Amy…” he said in a low voice that sounded somewhat surprised. He pulled back to look down at me again. His were almost black, his pupils completely dilated.
“Put your hands behind your back. Clasp them.”
I clasped my arms behind my back. I knew how I must look on my knees in front of him, and the idea excited me.
“It feels good,
doesn’t it, Amy?” he asked in a soft voice.
I didn’t respond, only continued looking up at him through my lashes, determined not to waver. Time passed slowly while he waited.
I licked my lips.
Dallon made a low noise and grasped a handful of my hair, making a makeshift ponytail. He pulled hard, tilting my head back—and then a pained look marred his beautiful features.
He released his hold abruptly and gathered me to him. In a second, I was lying on my back on the bed and he was above me, supporting himself on one arm. He kicked off his jeans and moved between my legs to kiss my stomach, and I could feel him against my thigh.
“I want you,” he whispered as he trailed kisses up my body. “Tell me I can have you.”
His fingers moved between my legs again, and he sat back to gaze at me, looking… hungry. When his thumb circled me again, I nodded quickly. I closed my eyes as he kicked off his pants and only opened them again when he was above me. He took my hands in his and moved them to the side of my head, pinning them there. He was looking at me with such fierceness that I shook a little, and a small smile played on his lips.
“You’re a bit afraid of me.”
“Do you want me to be afraid of you?”
“I want you to be afraid of angering me.”
“I am.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips against my forehead, his eyes closed. “Amy,” he whispered against my skin, “I’m not a brute, but I want what I want, and that is for you to submit to me.”
His admission didn’t come as much of a surprise, but the timing didn’t seem fair. I was lying there, waiting, and he was asking me to make a choice.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I want all of you—mind, body and soul.”
His fingers circled again, and I arched my back, biting my lip from begging him to continue. He was hinting that he wanted to own me—every part of me—and it seemed impossible, but at that moment, kind of hot.
He stopped touching me and cocked his head to the side. “Say that you’ll be mine. In everything, Amy. My girlfriend, my lover.”
“I already am,” I whispered.
His face softened and he shook his head almost sadly. “It’s not enough. I don’t just want you for a night.”