Theo shifted beneath her hand. “I need to go, Maggie. I can’t—”
She squeezed his neck hard and pushed him back down into the chair. “Tell me your safe word, Theodore.”
He stilled. “Maggie …”
“Tell it to me,” she said, trying to trust her instincts but her heart thumping hard against her ribs.
“Oregon.”
“That will always work with me, you understand?”
He was quiet for a long moment, and she thought he’d call the word right then and walk out, but then she heard a tense “Yes, mistress.”
She closed her eyes, gathering her nerve. Sometimes this role came naturally to her, like walking or breathing, but right now she felt like she was back on the ice outside with no tread on her shoes. She was about to enter slippery territory and had no idea if they’d be able to keep on their feet. But something inside her was telling her to take the risk, to let her gut guide her. She took one more breath and then bent down, putting her lips close to Theo’s ear. “Listen, sub. You have spent almost a year teasing me—coming into my sessions, looking smug and sexy and so damn handsome I could barely stand it. You strip for me but not all the way. You let me beat you but not really touch you. You’ve submitted to me but with so much fine print that you managed to keep all the control.”
“Mistress—”
“Do you know how many times you left me pent up and on my own to take care of my needs? A vibrator can only satisfy so much, Theo.”
Theo let out a shuddering breath and gripped the underside of his chair. Maggie let her eyes travel downward where the outline of his burgeoning erection was visible. She smiled, the predator in her relishing the small victory.
“So I think it’s only fair that you pay me back for all my trouble.” She stepped around the front of his chair and tapped beneath his chin to make him look up. His dark blue eyes met hers—apprehension there, but also something else, something much more telling. Need. “Your hard limits and fine print are done, sub. We’re in my house. My rules.”
His gaze lit with panic, and he moved to stand. “Maggie, I can’t—”
But Maggie had learned a few tricks in her time, and she pounced quick enough to catch him off guard. Her hand cupped his crotch and gripped. “You’re not going anywhere, sub.”
A choked sound escaped him when she squeezed his tender flesh in her palm. He was taller than her by at least six inches, and broader. He could toss her to her ass without blinking. But he didn’t move. Just held her gaze with those fathomless eyes. “What are you doing, mistress?”
She pushed up on her toes, bringing her mouth within centimeters of his and whispered, “Taking you hostage.”
Then she kissed him.
Breaking her rule and his.
FIVE
Maggie putting her mouth to his was like a thunderclap going off in his head—loud, shattering, and powerful enough to steal every ounce of sane thought in his head.
I’m taking you hostage.
She still cupped his testicles in a firm grip, the threat of real pain only driving up his arousal, but the soft, sweet touch of her lips was what almost killed him. He’d imagined kissing her before, had berated himself for the desire, but God, he hadn’t come close to getting it right. This—this was the kind of kiss that erotic poems were written about. Her lips teased and coaxed, almost daring him to push her away, and then she eased his lips open with her tongue and took it deeper. In control. Commanding. But edged with such feminine sensuality that he wanted to moan into her mouth and beg for it to never stop.
Theo’s brain was trying to kick in, trying to lay logic atop the situation, but his libido was too loud to hear any of it. Everything had gone hot and needy at the feel of her hands and mouth on him. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. That’s all he heard in his head. He wanted her more in this moment than he’d ever wanted any woman in his life. This sexy dominant woman. This beautiful, quirky artist. This strong girl who’d kicked an abusive boyfriend to the curb and made her own way. He wanted to feel her body beneath his hands, to be inside her, to bring her pleasure, to hear how she sounded when she came. That wanting alone was a guilty kick in the gut. But he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. It was all too good, too in the moment.
She moved her hand up, sliding over his fly and finding the button of his pants. The feel of her fingers unhooking the button sent a frisson of panic in him. What was he doing? He couldn’t do this.
Maggie had stopped taking clients because she wanted something more meaningful. He wasn’t the guy who could offer that. He was fucked up. The fact that he was still struggling when a beautiful woman wanted to take him to bed proved that. He wasn’t a guy who could take her on dates and be carefree and have a good time. She deserved better than what he could offer.
He put his hand on her wrist before she could unzip his fly and pulled away from the kiss. “Mistress, I can’t do this. I can’t be what you want me to be.”
She lifted her face, meeting his gaze and holding it. Those laughing green eyes weren’t laughing anymore. They were hard and serious. Unbearably sexy. “I don’t want you to be anything but my fuck toy tonight, sub. Think you can manage not to screw that up?”
His lips parted. He’d seen Maggie in mistress mode many times, but this was a new level, and his desire stood up and took notice. She wasn’t going to make this tender or sweet. She wasn’t going to pretend this was a date. And she wasn’t going to throw pity his way even knowing his past now.
But before he could respond, she reached out and yanked his zipper down then tugged his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion, leaving him exposed to the glare of the overhead lights and the darkness outside. His instinct was to grab for his clothes, but he forced his hands to his sides, his submissive training kicking in. His erection stood proud, belying all the protests he’d given.
Maggie’s gaze traveled down his body, lingering on his cock. She eased her hand around it and gave it a stroke that nearly sent him to his knees. She nodded. “So this is what you’ve been hiding from me, huh? This will do just fine. Turn around.”