But in this instance, it kind of was.
And she had to admit, letting someone else take charge, do all the thinking . . . it sounded like bliss.
“What is your job?” he asked.
“To do as you say.”
“Good girl. And you want to know what my job is?”
“Uh, to boss me around.”
“Well, yeah.” He grinned. “And I have to say, it’s the best job I’ve ever had. But my job is to take care of you, to give you what you need. Is that what you want?”
Lord, yes. “Yes, Sir.”
“Sometimes you won’t always like my methods.”
Hmm, she didn’t like the sound of that so much.
“But remember, no matter what, you can always stop with your safeword, understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. If you need to talk about something, you can say yellow, and we’ll pause. All right?”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
As he spoke, his thumb continued to softly move over her clit as he moved his mouth closer to hers. “And you might think you’re done, pretty girl. But you’re not even close.”
He kissed her as he continued to rub her clit. Oh Lord, was it possible she was going to come again? She could feel herself teetering on the edge.
Then he suddenly drew away.
She sat up, reaching for him.
“No,” he said firmly. “Keep your hands where they are.”
Drat. She’d already failed at doing what he wanted. Idiot.
“Hey, stop,” he murmured. “I don’t expect perfection, baby. You’ll mess up. I’ll mess up. That’s life. Stop stressing. This is something small, not worth stressing over. I know that you can do this, my clever girl.”
She preened under his praise. And he watched her with a small quirk of his lips.
“Hmm, I think someone has a praise kink.”
“You do?” she sassed. “Do you want me to call you my good boy?”
Oops. Maybe she shouldn’t have teased him. This was probably meant to be serious. But then he threw back his head and laughed.
“Well, I do like to hear when I’m doing a good job,” he told her.
“Glad I could help.” She gave him a tremulous smile.
“It’s okay to have some fun too, pretty girl. In fact, I insist on it.”
“Does that mean I get to come now?” She pouted.
“I haven’t gotten to wash you yet.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. The one he’d just had on her clit. She couldn’t help but run her tongue over her lower lip.
“Do you like the taste of yourself?” he murmured. “Because I can assure you that you are the best thing I’ve tasted. But that little tease wasn’t enough. Let’s get in the shower before I decide to devour you. Stay where you are.”
He moved to the shower and turned it on. Then he did the cruelest thing yet.
He started to slowly strip.
Holy. Crap.
Seeing all that sexy skin on display and having to watch without being able to touch . . . pure torture. She took him in hungrily. Her mouth actually watered. She wanted to run her tongue all over his abs. To suck on his nipples. To trace his tattoos, which covered most of the skin on his arms, chest, and back, with a finger and then follow up with her tongue.
She was ready to explode, and he hadn’t even taken his pants off yet.
What would she do once she saw his dick?
Then he slid the zip down on his pants. He’d taken his shoes off as soon as they’d entered the hotel room. Nerves filled her as he took off his pants. What if she couldn’t please him?
She knew that he’d said all she had to do was what he told her to . . . but it was hard to stop worrying.
Especially when he was perfection. She doubted he ever set a foot wrong, and she could barely walk without doing something idiotic.
When he stood, she could see his dick pressing against his black boxers. She gulped at the size of him . . . and then she took a good look at his boxers.
They were black with an image of a giant squid-like creature over them and the words, Release the Kraken, written over them.
What the heck . . .
“Oh God,” he groaned, staring down at his boxers. “These were joke boxers from Tanner. I, uh, haven’t done laundry in a while.”
He looked delightfully sheepish, and she felt herself relaxing. Maybe he wasn’t perfect.
And the thing was, she didn’t care that he wasn’t. Because he was real.
Moving to the shower, he tested the temperature before he came over to lift her down off the counter.
“I can get off myself,” she said.
“Can you?” He grinned wickedly. “Maybe later. I want to get you off first. I wouldn’t be opposed to watching that, though.”
What was he . . . oh. “Butch!”
He chuckled.
“I meant off the counter.” Damn, her cheeks were red.
“I like having an excuse to touch you.”