She relaxed. “No, but—”
“Never,” he interrupted. It didn’t matter what she planned to say. She needed to know one truth. “I would never let anything happen to you. I should spank your ass red for even thinking I would.”
Her gasp shot straight to his cock. Sitting next to her for hours, her scent, soft and womanly, filling up in the cab of the truck, while she’d curled trustingly against his side with her hand on his thigh, had revved him up.
“You did not say just that. Don’t you dare think you’re going to spank me,” she growled.
Hunter smiled in the dark. “Dare? Honey, I can’t wait.”
“Stop trying to keep me off balance and forcing me to rely on you. Just . . . stop.”
He understood the trepidation in her voice. Last night, he hadn’t expected to take the lead. By all rights, that had been Ben’s honor, who was vanilla all the way. So Hunter hadn’t come prepared for anything more than a good time. Then his buddy’s drunkenness and Hunter’s own possessiveness had changed the plan. He’d been unprepared to lead her in any sort of D/s scene. But here, alone . . . Yeah. He couldn’t wait to show her exactly how much he’d dare.
A few steps more, and he ushered her into the master suite, setting the motion sensors in the living room, then shutting and locking the bedroom door behind them. He flipped on the overhead light. A bright glow spilled out over the heavy two-toned gray comforter, its pattern thoroughly modern. The black upholstered and brushed nickel headboard sat against the charcoal walls, between two vertical windows with dark blinds drawn tight. A dresser, matching nightstand, and area rug—all black—added to the heavy air in the room. The only shred of warmth was the Brazilian cherry floors and the bridal portrait of Kimber. The rest? Off-putting and impersonal, just the way Logan liked things.
Idly, Hunter wondered how long it would take her to notice the manacles dangling from chains down from either side of the headboard.
“Wow.” Her gaze skittered almost frenetically around the room. “This is your brother’s place?”
He nodded. “Warm, huh?”
“Not in the least.”
Logan had been f**ked up for years. But instead of his mental state improving over time, it was growing worse. By leaps and bounds. Another reason that he and little brother were going to have a heart-to-heart. Not that Hunter didn’t understand Logan’s dark needs. They had a lot in common there. But lately . . . his brother behaved as if he’d done a belly flop off the mental deep end.
Rather than giving Kata more time to rubberneck, Hunter pushed her to the sleek adjoining bathroom. At least here, a patterned marble inlay and travertine relieved the black of the walls, cabinets, and trim.
“He, um . . . has a real hard-on for contemporary décor.”
Or black simply matched Logan’s mood. But why debate the subject? “Let me run you a hot bath, honey.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned the hot water on and placed the stopper in the tub. Beneath the vanity, he found a towel and washcloth and set them on the counter. He rummaged through a few drawers and came up with a toothbrush still in the plastic and a new comb.
Then he turned to Kata, watching her step away and look at everything but him. Her evasiveness had to end, especially now when he was dying to reconnect with her. Time would help her adjust to marriage and to him—but that was something he didn’t have. So, on to plan B.
He took a deep breath. Yes, he had to tread carefully, give her a lot of latitude, considering all she’d been through, but . . . he couldn’t allow her to keep walls between them.
Begin how you mean to go on.
“Thanks,” she murmured, stepping toward the door, presumably to see him out.
Hunter stepped into her path. “You’re welcome. Now strip.”
Kata’s hazel eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
Her flippant reply didn’t interest Hunter; he’d expected it, would deal with it. But she couldn’t hide when her pupils dilated and her cheeks turned rosy. Kata’s involuntary reactions sliced desire through his belly, shuttling straight down to his cock. He leveled her with a hard stare, raising his head a fraction, stepping far into her personal space.
In response, her ni**les beaded. She swallowed, dropped her stare.
Definitely submissive. Last night, he’d suspected it, even as she’d pushed back again and again. But she hadn’t been his to test or claim. All that had changed. Hunter planned to make sure she understood exactly who and what he was—and uncover the submissive inside her he felt sure she’d never trusted any man enough to let out.
Kata had some serious hang-ups about control. They’d get to the bottom of those. Yes, the power to refuse always rested with the submissive. But Hunter sensed that she needed reassurance that he’d never want a doormat and didn’t want her to change. He’d help her understand what she secretly yearned for and teach her to ask for what she feared to want.
“It’s an order, honey, not a negotiation.” He kept his voice low, deceptively soft. “I’m waiting.”
She hesitated, and Hunter sensed a million thoughts whirling in her head. Desire, anger, and exasperation crossed her gorgeous face. Finally, she raised her chin and crossed her arms over her chest.
Submissive ... but not going down without a fight. He held in a smile.