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“Hey.” She shoved at his chest, a laugh on her lips as she made a feeble attempt at escape.

He grabbed her belt and pulled, opening her robe and pressing her against him. “Nosy. And naughty as all get out, I might add.” He slipped his hands onto her bared waist. “Likes to be shared, gets off on a little fear, and has a body that responds like it was meant for this. You’re a surprise at every corner, freckles.”

“I’ve always been an overachiever,” she said with mock seriousness. “And clearly, you’re terrible at reading people.”

He pinched her hip, earning him a delicious yelp. “Come on, smart-ass. Let’s get this demo over with. If I have to wait much longer to get you in my dungeon, I’ll end up fucking you in front of everyone out there.”

There it was. That flare of heat and fear lighting her eyes. The desire in him swelled, feeding on it. It was a drug he could get used to imbibing.

She wet her lips, and he stared at her mouth, wanting to kiss her, to taste that need from her. The thought punched him in the sternum—the shock of that old, now-alien desire almost knocking him on his ass.

He didn’t do kissing. Beyond the occasional friendly peck, it was off limits. The act always seemed too tender, too personal, a betrayal to the memory of the last woman he kissed.

He cupped Charli’s cheek and brushed a thumb over her lips, but held back from putting his mouth on hers. What was it about this girl that made him want to break all his rules? He sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Time to get you trussed up, darlin’.”

Grant led Charli out of the staging room and into one of the training rooms where a small audience waited for them. Charli tensed beneath his grip when she stepped into the spotlighted area. He’d anticipated some fear and kept her close to his side. “Breathe, freckles. You look beautiful. These people are lucky that they get the privilege of seeing you.”

She nodded, though he could feel the harried beat of her heart at her wrist. “Sorry. The last time I was paraded onstage like this was when I was eight and my mother forced me into a beauty pageant. I tripped, tore my dress, and all the other kids laughed at me.”

Her tone was light, but the pain he could hear beneath it twisted something in his chest. He halted her at the center of the small platform and pulled the tie he’d used to bind her arms earlier from his pocket. He put his knuckle beneath her chin, keeping her attention on him and not on the people in the crowd. “Charlotte, I’m going to blindfold you.”

Her eyes widened.

“Trust me. This will help you focus on my voice and the sensations, and let the fear go. Forget that the audience is here. It’s just you and me up here, okay?”

He watched her throat work as she swallowed. “But what if I mess something up?”

He frowned. Her desire to do everything exactly right was damn endearing, but he hated to see the stress creasing her brow. “Relax, darlin’. Nothing you could do up here will disappoint me. No one is here to judge you or laugh at you. You could safe word the minute the rope touches your skin and everyone would understand. All right?”

She nodded, though doubt still lingered in her eyes. “Yes, Grant.”

“Good girl.” He stepped around her and tied the silk over her eyes, hoping the sooner he visibly blocked the audience out, the sooner she’d be able to forget they were there. After giving her a minute to adjust to the blindfold, he removed her robe.r: Roni Loren

Colby stepped through the doorway, his gaze landing on Charli, then darting back to Grant. “Everything’s all set up, Boss. Need anything else?”

When Grant didn’t respond immediately, Charli looked back to him, finding her cowboy smiling darkly.

“Perhaps.” Grant hooked a finger in her collar, guiding her upward. Her legs struggled to remember their function, and Grant had to grab her elbow to steady her. Once she’d regained her balance, he brushed the back of his hand along one of her nipples and she gasped at the sharp snap of sensation.

Fuck. She felt like a grenade with the pin stuck—ready to detonate, but unable to without that final pull.

“Do you need to come, Charlotte?”

God, yes. “Please.”

“By whatever means I deem appropriate?”

“Yes, sir,” she said quickly, too far gone to worry about details.

“Good girl.”

He grabbed the tie he’d discarded earlier from the arm of the couch and stepped behind her, fastening her wrists at the small of her back. The move had her breasts jutting out and fully exposed to Colby, who’d stayed near the doorway. The wolfish grin that crossed Colby’s face had her belly fluttering.

Grant slid a hot palm along her ass and sat his chin on her shoulder, his stubble sending goose bumps along her skin. “You know, Colby? Before I agreed to take her on myself, my lovely Charlotte asked to be trained by you.”

Colby’s eyebrow lifted. “Is that right? Well, color me flattered.”

“And she probably thinks that I’m way too possessive to share her.” Grant’s finger traced the cleft where her butt met her thigh. “But she doesn’t realize that one of the ultimate acts of ownership is having the say over who can and can’t touch your sub.”


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic