“Honey, trust me. I’m not Gordon. When something is bothering you, we’ll talk about it. I want to know how you feel and what’s on your mind.” He sighed and swept the hair back from her face with gentle palms. “Too many Doms want some sweet little sub who won’t give them any challenge. I could pick up the phone now and call any one of the dozens of such subs I know. But your submission is only as good as my dominance. It’s your vitality and your passion I want, and your full life contributes to those. Under normal circumstances, I would never interfere with your job or your friends. If I ever behave like Gordon, you have my permission to string me up by the balls. I want to master your body, not put a lockdown on your life.”
Really?
Kata bit her lip as she stared up into his hard male face, his eyes so blue in the semidarkness. He met her, moment for moment, not blinking. Not rushing her. His words bounced around in her head.
Hunter had spelled out the situation perfectly. Now she had to decide: return to her casual lovers and sex with them that meant nothing, or submit?
Chapter Ten
“ALL right.” Releasing a harsh breath, Kata sent him a jerky nod. “If you don’t overwhelm me too much, I’ll try to submit to you.”
He smiled. “Not to sound too much like Yoda, but ‘do or do not; there is no try.’”
Yeah, Hunter was an all or nothing guy. And so far, she’d done everything halfway. If she wanted this, wanted to find out if he was really going to fill that empty, aching need in her that had never been quite satisfied, she was going to have to cooperate. Hunter couldn’t give her that elusive, ultimate satisfaction if she didn’t let him.
“Okay.” She swallowed. “I’ll do it.”
Satisfaction settled into his stark features. “Thank you.”
That look suffused her with pleasure. Normally, she wouldn’t give a shit what any guy thought. Gordon had rearranged her wiring so that she didn’t go out of her way to please any male. For some reason, Hunter was different. Yes, he was often pushy and unyielding, which sometimes translated to teeth-gritting annoyance. But he didn’t appear to command her simply for the sake of pumping up whatever chest-thumping, knuckle-dragging caveman lived inside him. He had a purpose. And if she wanted more of his smiles, affection, and sugary-perfect touch—and that orgasm he’d been withholding—she was going to have to rein in her temper.
He brushed her cheek with a tender caress, settled his mouth over hers. Her thoughts scattered. His kiss drifted over her lips, softer than a whisper but with more impact than a sledgehammer. She drew in a shaky breath. An ache bled through her chest, until her ni**les peaked again. This feeling went beyond a mere craving for his touch to an insane desire to be meaningful to him. It speared her heart, the terrifying yearning for all of him to merge with all of her.
Because she wanted it so badly, Kata realized that Hunter was holding himself back.
She raised her head, as much as the manacles allowed, and fused their mouths together in another silent plea. She opened to him, arched to him, told him in a thousand subtle ways that he was welcome.
Instead of taking what she offered, he eased back and stared at her as if she were a puzzle to solve. Lying naked under the muted, grayish light, prisoner to his perceptive gaze, made her so aware of her own skin, of the ceiling fan’s cool breeze brushing her exposed ni**les, the swollen, wet flesh between her legs. Manacled, open, she could hide nothing. Instead of squirming with the usual discomfort, more blood swelled her ni**les and her clit pulsed under her skin.
His gaze was intimate. Ravenous. A thick ridge of c**k stood behind the fly of his low-slung jeans. The fact that seeing her all spread out revved him up gave Kata a ridiculous thrill. She arched, thrusting her br**sts out, silently offering what she so badly needed him to take.
As if he read her mind, Hunter ran a finger over the hard point of her nipple, down her belly, into her wet pu**y. Light, toying, teasing, every touch was designed to take her up higher. A new ripple of pleasure crashed over her.
“What do you want, honey? Tell me.”
His body on hers, every inch of that erection tenting his jeans deep inside her while they strained together for a mutually amazing climax.
She lifted her hips to him in silent invitation, hoping he’d get the hint.
His gaze dipped lower, right between her legs, but he didn’t move toward her.
“Kata,” his tone warned. “Any good Dom/sub relationship starts with clear communication.” His phone dinged with a reminder alarm in the charged room. He leveled a heavy stare her way. “Top of the hour, honey. Time for another punishment. Tell me what you want or brace yourself.”
That calm, unblinking stare of his unnerved her. How did you tell a man so full of control and command that you wanted him to do his worst, even if it scared you senseless? He knew all this. Why did she have to make herself more vulnerable?
“I—I . . .” Am so afraid.
“All right, then. Pity.” As he opened the drawers of the nightstand, his jaw clenched. No mistaking his disappointment, edged in anger.
That didn’t bode well for a quick orgasm. And some part of her really hated to disappoint him.
“Wait!” she gasped. “If you want me to admit that I’m hot for you, I am. Totally.”
He shook his head, no longer even looking at her. Instead, he prowled through the drawers of the nightstand. “I can see that by looking at your hard ni**les and your wet pu**y. I didn’t ask what you felt. I asked what you wanted.”
Crap. He’d given her another chance, and she’d blown it with her reticence and her big mouth. Why was it so hard to admit her feelings and desires to him? Why did it feel too revealing? Gordon . . . and her mother. Their twisted relationship terrified her. But would Hunter really throw her feelings back in her face, use them against her? Or was she just too afraid to find out because baring her feelings gave him so much power?
Wincing at the ugly truth, Kata watched his quick, precise movements. The displeasure on his face was like a stab to the heart. And she had an inkling that whatever he was doing in that drawer would light up the ache in her unsatisfied body, quickly eclipsing any mental discomfort she would suffer by being honest.