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It was all I needed to cut the last string of doubt and I finished the job of removing all obstacles to her naked body. Her blouse joined the skirt on the floor. Just as my eyes began drinking in the lush curves of her breasts, she crossed her arms defensively against her chest.
I couldn't help but laugh. We'd only just met, but the similarities between us were startling. Both knowing what we wanted, what we needed; both holding onto fear. Choosing apprehension instead of the thing we clearly desired.
I'd hoped the chuckle would alleviate the tension, but her eyes narrowed and she ducked around me, snatching up her clothes. Her movements were jarring. Insolent. I responded in kind.
"What do you think you're doing?" I practically growled.
"Leaving," she spat. "You know, that thing one does when they no longer want to be someplace."
Touché. I smiled inwardly, wanting her all the more. Throwing my own sarcasm right back at me—Leila had fire. It wasn’t the grating defiance of bratty submissives I'd played with; mouthing off because they wanted to be spanked. She mouthed off because she wanted to be respected.
I knew in that moment that there was no way I would let her get away. I knew her skirt was stuck beneath my shoe, but I towered above her, a smirk taking possession of my lips. She glared up at me and I lifted my foot, taking a small step backward. This was going to be fun. "We both know you're not going anywhere, Leila."
"Is that right?" To illustrate just how wrong she thought I was, she shimmied her way back into her skirt.
"That's right," I answered smoothly. "The starting salary of a research aide at Whitmore and Creighton is more than generous, you'll get behind the scenes access to the meatiest public relations catastrophes in the world, and we have an excellent benefits package."
She zipped her skirt with a snort that would usually garner a swift result of some form of punishment, but I let it slide.
"So it's a good job." She shrugged. "And my interview involves spreading my legs? You dangle a check and health insurance like a bone and I'm just supposed to have sex with you?"
"No." I took all playfulness from my eyes. This was no game. This was the truth that hung in the air between us. A truth that wouldn't be denied. "You haven't earned sex. But you're going to submit to me because you want to."
Brown curls danced into her eyes but she swept them out of the way so I could get a good luck at how infuriatingly sexy her stubbornness was. "I'm pretty sure I just said I wasn't interested." Despite her sharp, ‘don’t mess with me’ tone, she avoided my gaze. "I'm not a whore."
"I never said you were. But I do think you're curious."
She made the sound again, but it wasn't quite as indignant. "Curious?"
I nodded slowly. Deliberately. I was learning this woman, and I couldn't wait until I knew her inside and out. "That's right. You're going to submit to me because you're curious."
"No, I'm not." But her movements, or lack thereof, betrayed her.
"I can tell you're a woman that's used to being in charge. A leader." I took a step toward her, longing to take her when her cheeks reddened with arousal. "You're going to submit to me because you're curious about what it would be like to give everything over to someone else. You're going to do what I say because secretly, you wonder what it's like to be on your knees."
She opened her mouth to say something snarky I imagine, but the time for words had passed. I needed to touch her. I had to touch her.
I slipped a finger inside her panties, her skin soft and inviting, beckoning me. When I reached her sex, I teased her. Soft strokes that gave her a taste of what was to come, but left her wanting. She was still at first and I could tell from the way her breath ratcheted up to panting that not moving, not feeling my finger inside, was becoming impossible.
She twitched against my touch, trying to nonverbally demonstrate what she needed. It was cute, but futile. I knew what she needed, and I would give it to her when she needed it, and not a minute before.
"Stay still," I commanded.
Her moan told me that was the last thing she wanted to do and her trembling confirmed it. God, I wanted her. The wet kiss of the desire that coated her erotic flesh was driving me wild. We'd only just begun and she was already so wet. So in need. It was harder than I'd like to admit to keep my own moans at bay.
She gave in, her eyelids fluttering closed as I stroked her, but almost instantly they popped back open. Wide eyed. Heels dug in. "Mr. Whitmore-"
"Jacob," I corrected. I never allowed my submissives to call me by my name when we were in the D/s space, but I wanted to hear my name on her tongue.
Teasing her opening was no longer an option, so I dipped my finger just inside, a shudder of desire radiating through me as her body suckled me. The honey drenched me to the bone and my cock was so hard it was painful. I wanted to drive my lust inside her tightness; feel her wrapped around me.
She brought a trembling hand to mine, but her words were lost in the haze and my voice betrayed me, words thick and wild as I pushed my finger deeper. "Yes, oh God, yes!"
Her head tossed back and forth, face scrunched in ecstasy. "I think I should-" Her sweetheart mouth hung open as her moans carried us both closer to bliss.
Needing more of her, needing to see how much she could take, I drove a second finger inside her, watching her eyebrows lurch upward and her head snap backward as she ground against my fingers. Seeing her this way, giving herself to me, wild, primal, was enough to drive me mad. I hadn't even touched myself and I felt my balls tighten, filling with a need to explode. This was a morning filled with firsts: the first time I'd ever felt so instantaneously drawn to someone, the first time since I'd accepted my dominant nature and been with someone without thorough vetting and getting their name on the dotted line, and the first time I felt myself getting lost and nothing mattered but this overwhelming pleasure.
"Come for me," I growled, knuckle deep in her warmth, surrounded by the scent of her arousal and a sweet, innocent vanilla fragrance that wafted from her neck. From her breasts that rose and fell with every choppy breath she took.
