“I swear if you apologize again, I’m going to smack you. It’s not your fault, Cyrus, so get over yourself.”
The look he sent her was so hot, she was shocked her clothes didn’t simply ignite. “Smack me and see what happens, Ace.”
Her first instinct was to blow him off and make a joke out of it. But underneath the smolder, there was something else. Something almost haunted in his expression. He didn’t seem like the type to take well to being fawned over, so she went with her second instinct.
Eyes locked on his, she reached out and smacked him on the shoulder.
Not hard enough to even make him flinch, but enough for her own fingers to sting at the contact and for her intention to be clear.
Without taking his eyes off her, he reached over and plucked her bowl from her lap and placed it next to his on the table. “That was very naughty, Mina.”
The words were soft, calm even, but danger lurked beneath the surface. “Maybe. What are you gonna do about it?”
Pushing to his feet, he held out a hand. Confused, but willing to play along, she placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up so they were facing each other.
“Do you remember what I said earlier about how punishment could be play?”
“Ah, yeah.” Desire coursed through her body at the thought of being over his knee again.
“Well, the reverse is also true. Are you still comfortable moving our physical relationship forward?”
“Umm, yeah. Of course.”
“Good.” He smiled, but it did nothing to calm her suddenly overactive nerves. “Strip.”
“Strip? As in, get naked? Right here in the living room?”
“Yes. Unless you’d like to call red, in which case I can find a more…creative way to punish you.”
You are in so much trouble, Ouranos.Ignoring the warnings ringing in her ears, she flipped the top button of her blouse open. His eyes never left hers as she went through the familiar motions of undressing.
Why the hell was that so freakinghot? Unnerving, having all of his attention on her, but hot as the underworld, too, the way he looked at her like he could simply…devour her.
Tossing her shirt over the back of the couch, she turned her back to him. “Little help with the zipper?”
Despite their pre-dinner activities, she was completely unprepared for the zip of electricity up her spine when his fingers brushed the bare skin of her back. All of her focus went to the tug of the zipper, the slow, steady trail of it down the center of her ass. The warmth of his breath on her neck as he undressed her.
“Thanks,” she managed through the breath clogging her throat when the skirt was loose enough for her to wiggle it down over her hips.
“Aphrodite wept,” he murmured. “You are stunning.”
Straightening, she turned back to him and smirked. “Your turn.”
“I said strip, Mina. Every second you spend not doing as you were told adds to your punishment.”
“All right, all right, jeez.” Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra and tossed it over her shirt. Hunger, stark and primal, filled his eyes as he took in her bare torso. Riding high on that small victory, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her thong and worked it down over her hips. When the lace pooled at the soles of her stilettos, she kicked it off to the side.
“Shoes, too?” she asked, letting the faux sweetness drip from her tone.
“No. The shoes can stay. Hands behind your head, feet shoulder width apart.”
A flash of embarrassment hit her as she positioned herself per his instructions. She had zero reservations about her body, but there was something inherently humiliating about being deliberately put on display for someone.
And yet, that slight humiliation only added to the arousal burning between her thighs.
“Actually, I changed my mind. Arms out, palms up.”
“Why?”