Tempt Me - Caitlin Crews Page 0,35

slipping into the right frame of mind when all she did was moan a little at that. No arguments. No commentary about derogatory language or whether or not she felt demeaned.

He could see that she did not.

And it pleased him that whether she could have put it into words or not, some part of her understood that here, at his feet, was the time to experience power differentials. Not debate them.

“First,” he said, “I want you naked. I don’t want you to stand up. I want you to take off your clothes right where you are. Stay on your knees, please.”

Rory looked like she might topple over, but she didn’t. And she was breathing like she was running a race, but she didn’t argue with him. Her shoulders dropped, and then she shrugged off the summer scarf that had long since fallen to each side. She pulled off her tank top, and the strappy bra beneath it, and set them to the side. She rocked forward on her knees to push her skirt and her panties down, then back again to wrestle them over her knees, and forward one more time to get them off.

When she was finished, she was flushed and looked cross.

But he could see all of her, at last.

And she was a confection. She was a petite little thing, all silky limbs, full breasts, and a pouting pussy.

Mine, something in him growled, dark and deep.

He concentrated on the task at hand. “You spent a lot of time in the past two weeks looking at filthy things on the internet.” And when she started to speak, to answer him, then stopped herself—he smiled. “You must have made yourself come, Rory. Again and again, I would think. Show me.”

He heard the huff of the breath she let out. He could almost see the word she wanted to say trembling there on her lips, but once again, she caught herself.

Even though her chest heaved.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he told her, with silken command. “Put your hands between your legs. Spread your thighs. And show me what you do when you’re alone in your flat, watching dark and terrible things that excite you and make you think of me.”

He heard the low, almost pained sound she made, but she rushed to do exactly as he’d requested. She slid her hands to the inside of her thighs, and adjusted the way she knelt there, widening her thighs to give him a better view, and then moving her hands to cup her pussy.

“I don’t know if I can—”

Conrad simply reached out and pinched her nipple. Hard. She made a squeaking, outraged sort of sound, but he didn’t let go.

“That’s called a consequence.” His voice was perfectly calm. “And it was such a mild one, wasn’t it?” Even as he spoke, he was rolling the proud little peak between his finger and thumb, soothing the sharp pain he knew he’d given her. “What did I say about editorializing?”

She swallowed, hard, and he thought she got a little mixed up the way she was breathing, because she made a ragged sound. “You said not to.”

“Indeed.” He flicked his thumb over the crest of her nipple, and she shivered. Her body bucked a little, and he could see that the shock of arousal and pain had mixed together for her. Just the way he liked it. “And when you speak to me, Rory, you call me Sir.”

Her eyes looked damper. Shinier. But they were still fixed to his face.

He lifted his hand to smooth it over her cheek. “You may thank me, Rory, for training you like this.”

He watched her struggle with that, or maybe fight her way out from under the weight of it. Either way, she looked jittery again, as if she didn’t know what her own body was doing.

“Th... Thank you, Sir,” she managed, her voice sounding thready. Insubstantial.

Perfect.

“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he warned.

He could see a kind of anguish over her face, then. And he knew what she might have wanted to tell him, if he’d let her speak. That she didn’t know if she could make herself come on command. That she hadn’t done it before, like this. That this was all too much for her, naked and kneeling, her hands between her legs, about to give herself pleasure—by giving him the pleasure he’d requested.

He shifted his legs slightly so they hemmed her in a bit more, truly caging her there, and waited.

And slowly, beautifully, she began