by Riley Murphy
Jo had the urge to squirm. They’d already gone over his short, but very precise, list of expectations, and the only sticking point in her mind? The part about the no swearing…and being graceful…and anticipating his needs. Hm. Maybe there was more than one thing that bothered her.
She stacked her plate on top of his and pushed them aside. “Your to-do list is kind of sparse next to mine.”
He crossed his arms over her chest and nodded. “All right. What would you like to take off your list? What is the thing or things that are bothering you?”
Ah, negotiations. This she could get into. She clasped her hands together on the table in front of her. She wouldn’t go for the most offensive right away. In her experience if you wanted to break the ice you started with something you would bend on if you had to. “The no swearing clause.”
“Clause? We didn’t sign a contract. I asked you to obey one of my rules. It was simple. No swearing because it makes you sound cheap and trashy. I don’t like cheap and trashy women, so if you want to continue to swear find someone else to Top you because I won’t put up with it. Next?”
Had she thought this was going to be a negotiation? “Being graceful.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong with being graceful? You don’t want to be graceful?”
When he put it like that she sounded like a crazy person and he came off as totally reasonable. But… “I don’t want to be forced to be graceful.”
“Don’t be absurd. Next?”
She unclasped her hands and put her palms flat on the table as she straightened. This one she wasn’t going to bend on no matter what. “I don’t like the idea of anticipating your needs just so I can fulfill them.”
“We’re talking outside of sex?”
She nodded.
“Fine.”
Ha, she gave herself a mental pat on the back. Her strategy worked. She got what she wanted.
“Just be prepared because I’m sure I’ll be disappointed.”
That didn’t sit well with her but she pretended it did and shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
His crooked smile suggested she wouldn’t. The devil was still smiling when he uncrossed his arms and leaned forward with forearms braced in front of him. “We’re going to start out simple. Real bare bones minimum here, while we get to know each other. Let’s worry about the finer details as we move through them. You have your safe word, not that you’ll need it anytime soon, and you know the protocol. All I’m asking from you are these three things. I want you to be faithful, obedient and trustworthy. If you can do those three things as we go through the initial stages everything else will fall into place. I promise.”
This made her feel infinitely better. “All right. I don’t mind telling you that I had visions of you making me walk with a stack of books on my head for better posture.”
“With my slippers in hand at the ready for me, no doubt.”
That made her smile. “You think I’m being a sucky baby about all this.”
“Maybe a little.”
“I’m going to try, that’s the best I can do.”
“That’s all I’ll ever ask of you. Now,” he tapped the table twice. “What are your three nonnegotiables?”
She’d put a lot of thought into this, and although she wished he’d given her a list of things to tick off because she was sure there was stuff she hadn’t even thought about, she’d done her best. “I don’t want to be flogged. You know with that thing that looks like a cheerleader’s pompom?”
“I know what a flogger is.”
“Well, I don’t want that.”
“What else?”
“Figging. Absolutely no figging.”
“Figging?” he chuckled. “Where did you hear about that?”
“From Colin.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Colin told me that Ethan’s an evil genius when it comes to the creative use of vegetables.”
“And the last one?”
She hated to have to admit this but she was determined to be truthful. “I don’t want to be made to say I love you. Ever.”
“Hm. I can honestly say that’s the most eclectic list of non-wants I’ve ever heard.”
“The two, surely, but what about the flogger? Makes sense, right?”
“Not to me, but that could be because I wield the instrument.”
He was so nonchalant about it they could have been talking about a Sunday afternoon drive. “What do you mean?”
“Out of the items in my drawer I would say the flogger is the least daunting.”
She tried not to let her eyes widen, but she knew they did. “What. Do. You. Mean?”
“The cane, switch, whip and belt cause more of a sting than the flogger. I guess it’s to each his own.”
Did he just wink at her?
She slapped her hand down on the table and said, “I want to change my answer.”
“I bet you do. Come here.”
He pushed his chair out and patted his lap.
She was glad for the robe he’d given her, even though the silky kimono had her burning with curiosity to know a few things. Like why did he have a woman’s robe at the ready and how was it that it fit her perfectly? She was going to ask, but then decided she may not like his answer.
“Come on.”
A sandy-blond lock fell over his eye the moment he threw a curt nod for her to comply, and she sucked in a breath. This monumental attraction thing for him was a real bitch. Butterflies danced in her stomach better than the most over-the-top Bollywood production number. She’d thought the jitters had eased some after their afternoon in bed, but if she wasn’t mistaken, and she didn’t think she was, they were worse.
Her feet practically dragged, making the four steps around the table to him, and when she got within arm’s reach he did what she expected and pulled her onto his lap. After that, she just sat there with ankles crossed and toes curling while she let her eyes do a circle search around his gorgeous kitchen. Once. Twice. And finally when the “could have heard a pin drop” silence was too much for her, she stuffed her hair behind her ear, tilted her head and looked at him through the corner of her eye, whispering, “What are you doing?”
He whispered back, “Waiting.”
Her gaze did a pendulum sweep of her lap. No. She had no idea. “Waiting for what?”
“For you to ask me questions.”
“About?”
“The,” he bent and spoke the next word in her ear, “disciplinarian.” Instantly the shakes started all over again.
Shrinking away from him, even though she secretly didn’t want to, she grumbled, “Y-you’re the disciplinarian.”
“I know.”
“Well,” she twisted and leaned back against the table edge, facing him, “the name sort of covers the topic doesn’t it?”
He slowly shook his head.
“I think it does.”
“But I don’t,” he said rather casually. Too casually before he parted her robe until each side slid down her arms, exposing her from shoulder to navel. “I love your designs.”
And she loved when he played with her nipples like he was doing now. “Are you trying to get me to agree with you?”
“No.”
Her insides heated. Melting. She couldn’t think straight when he teased her this way. Maybe talking was better. “I know why they call you the disciplinarian.”
His hands stilled and she could breathe. “Why?”
“Because you spank bad subs.”
“No.” He started rolling her nipples again.
“You spank misbehaving subs that belong to other Doms.”
“Getting warmer.”
He rubbed his thumbs over her fully engorged peaks until she shivered and closed her eyes. “You’re a bully who gets off on administering corporal punishment.”
“Jo.”
Her eyes snapped open and she gasped, jerking back. “Oww.”
“Behave.”
Scowling,
she moved to put her palms over her breasts because they were still stinging from where he’d flicked them, but he stopped her. “Don’t touch.”
“That hurt.”
“Are you trying to make the bully feel bad?”
“Maybe.”
“Not gonna happen. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you give me a glib answer like that.”
Now she felt bad because he sounded disappoi—her eyes shot to his and the bugger was grinning. She was losing serious ground here, so in a way he was right. She needed to start paying attention. “Sorry.” She thrust her breasts out. Maybe a little feminine wiles would distract him. “How come they call you that when you don’t dole out spankings?”
“I didn’t say that I didn’t dole them out. I do, but they’re usually reserved for rewards. A present.” He waggled his brows like she needed a reminder on that one.
“So what do you do for punishment? Hand out candy?”
“I have actually.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true. Big Tom’s girl was a hoarder of sweets. She hid a whole sack full of chocolates in their bedroom closet after he’d forbidden her to bring any in the house. She was a little on the rounded side of things. Not that Big Tom had anything against her curves. He didn’t. He just didn’t like her addiction to Dove Bars. He probably never would have known she was sneaking in the contraband if not for the ants. A whole army of them marched in a single file right to her shame.”
“So B-Big Tom sent her to you? To do what exactly?”
He reached out and took hold of her robe, pulling it up on her shoulders yet falling short of covering her completely. “He wanted me to break her of her addiction.”
His hazel eyes were so clear. Clearer than she’d ever seen them. Almost as if he was happy—no, content. She liked the thought of that. “Did you do it?”
“Yes.”
Jo was shocked. “By making her eat the ant-infested chocolate?”
He did a double take and then laughed. It was a deep, all-male laugh that made her smile. “No I did not. I had her stay with me for a week and all she was given to eat was insect-free chocolate.”
“That’s it?”
He nodded. “Yeah, well that and we did discuss why she felt the need to squirrel away the sweet stuff. It turned out that she had three younger siblings who used to steal all her holiday treats before she got the chance to enjoy them. So I guess you could say it was a conditioned behavior for her.” Now he brought the edges of her robe together and tightened up the loosened belt.
“That’s it? You made her eat chocolate and let her whine about her brothers and sisters? That was her punishment?”
He sent a mocking look skyward, as if he were considering, then he shrugged and looked right at her. “Yes. Let’s face it, even if you were given steak and lobster every day for a week it would get old by Wednesday, wouldn’t it?”
“Is Ethan a different kind of a Dom than you?”
“Sure, I guess, because no two are alike. Why do you ask?”
“He spanked Colin and it wasn’t a,” she did the air quotes for him, “present.”
“I’m sure he had his reasons and like I said, every Dom is different in the way they—what are you doing?”
“I’m feeling your scar.”
He pulled back. “I know that. Why?”
“I think it’s beautiful.”
Ted stared at her and she stared back.
“What’s the matter?”
Nothing. Everything. She was touching him in places she shouldn’t be. Deep down, under-the-skin places that he’d been protecting for a very long time. “Should we have some dessert?”
He gently pushed her off his lap and stood. “I have cinnamon applesauce.”
“That’s not dessert,” she said, moving aside for him. “It’s not sweet enough.”
“It is for me.” He scooped the dishes off the table and put them in the sink. “Especially with the way I eat it.”
“I can do that.”
He scrubbed the table and shook his head. “Thanks, I got it.” He continued wiping the surface until it shined and then he threw the dishtowel on the counter. “There. Up you get.”
He didn’t bother waiting for her to hop up on her own. He just picked her up and plunked her on the tabletop. Then without pausing, he went after her belt and undid it.
“W-what are you doing? It’s late. I need to be going.”
He opened the robe and feasted his eyes on her before he cupped her chin in his hand and tilted it. “It is late, but I’d rather you be coming.”
She was all warm and soft. And when the robe landed in a whisper around her bottom he didn’t hesitate. “Lie back. I want to show you something.”
“But I—”
“Shhh. That’s right. I’m just going to,” he lifted her hips once she was lying down and took the robe out from underneath her, “make you more comfortable.” Bending over, he kissed her abdomen, then her right hip as he adjusted her legs.
“Ted?”
“I want you to stay like this for a minute. Don’t move. I just have to get the dessert.”
The place was so brightly lit he knew he was pushing it with her. After he grabbed the applesauce, he left the fridge door open, and went one better and opened the freezer door as well. All he had to do now was retrieve a little buzzer out of his black bag and then he could commence with lesson number one.
“Are you doing okay?”
“I think so.”
He snapped off the overhead lights and turned. Damn she looked fucking awesome highlighted in the silver-lit darkness. Lying there, just as he left her. Waiting for him. “You look perfect.” He came to her. “Now close your eyes and let me prepare dessert.”
“You’re not going to do anything disgusting, are you?”
He was happy she trusted him enough to keep her eyes closed but… “Don’t be cheeky,” he warned, stepping between her dangling legs as he put the toy down before he opened the applesauce. “I don’t like it.”
He was sure she was going to launch some quick retort that would no doubt land her in trouble, so he’d figured he’d preempt the occurrence by tipping the jar of cold sauce and splashing what he gauged to be a spoonful on her thigh.
“Motherfu—”
“Jo.” She nearly sat up until he spoke. Then she hesitated for a second and lay back down. “Good. Close your eyes.”
“It’s cold.”
“I know.” He also knew that her tits were the nicest, most delectable pair he’d seen. With those designs they were totally a one-of-a-kind pair and he wanted to feast on them. With that in mind he stepped to one side of her and said, “Get ready. This is going to be chilly. Are you ready?”
He already knew she was. Not only were her eyes scrunched shut, but her whole body was tense. “I’m ready.”
“Deep breath, princess.” Slowly, he drizzled a fine line of his homemade sauce, which was more liquid than pulp, from her collarbone—he let her catch her breath—to spill over her breast. “Don’t shake. Focus and stay still.” He continued pouring down her stomach and ending at her hip. “Very good. That’s one side.”
“One side?” She brought her head up and looked down at herself.
“Shhh. Lie back. Eyes closed and concentrate.”
Ted waited for her to do as he told her. Although just the sight of her, all silver in the darkness eclipsed by the light of the fridge, with his favorite thing in the world clinging to her skin—to that breast, had his mouth watering. “Ready?”
After she nodded he went to the other side of her.
Here again he started at her collarbone, trailing the same line, making a game with himself to see if he could evenly match them, until he got to her nipple, and right there he paused. As slowly as he could, he did a small circle around that hardening-even-more-by-the-minute bud. Heatedly watching as the areola around it puckered and plumped.
“Breathe.” Why he was telling her t
o breathe when he’d all but forgotten to was beyond him. Slowly, steadily he made his way down to her hip and when he righted the sauce he needed to wipe his brow. Damn, he couldn’t wait to put his mouth on her.
“Done?”
Her voice was husky. Low and raspy. She liked this. “One more line and then we get dessert.” He moved to stand between her legs. Picking up the buzzer, he put it to one side of her. He’d be getting to that soon enough, but right now? “One more line right down your center.”
He started at the base of her neck and headed south. When he spilled the liquid between her breasts she… “No shivering. Focus.” He held up the pour until she settled. “Very good.” Drizzling it over her stomach, he made sure to fill her navel before he trailed it down her abdomen and over that smooth-as-glass mound. When she quivered he whispered, “Stay still. That’s right.” With each drop he jiggled out of the jar that splashed and slid down her slit, her stomach muscles contracted. He loved the process and would have continued if his mouth wasn’t aching to connect with her.
“You did really well.” He turned and reached to put the jar on the counter. He wanted to give her room without fear of breaking glass, because he fully intended to make her squirm. “Let’s start here.”
He smiled against her skin. Her gasp stoked him almost as much as her arched back. She was such a sensitive little thing. He sucked up a good bit of the sauce nearly to her breast, when he ordered, “Spine to the wood, princess. You’re messing up my lines.” He flicked his tongue over her nipple. “I worked hard on them,” he said before he opened his mouth and gorged on that beautiful peak. Swirling his tongue over the desire-hardened center. Tasting and licking. Nipping and sucking on just the one until she moaned.
“Ted…”
“No,” he said when she tried to sink her fingers in his hair. He pulled back. “Hands over your head, Jo. The way I like them positioned. Wrists crossed and palms open. Very good.”
He didn’t waste any time consuming the rest of that line. He nibbled, bit and sucked his way to her hip. His only thought was devouring that last line. Getting to the delicious bottom of it, but he had to be patient.
“Are you doing okay?” he whispered right in her ear before he started in on the second line he’d made on her.
