Page 20
I pull the shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor. Duncan’s gaze drops to my chest, stopping on the silver hoops through my nipples. His nostrils flare as he takes a slow breath, and the tiny crack in his control is enough to make me grin.
“Well?” I run my hand over my chest and tug one of the rings, enjoying the sensation almost as much as the way his jaw tightens.
“Keep going, boy.”
The word sends a shiver down my spine. Boy. A grin tugs at my lips as I drop to one knee and unzip my boots. Duncan may have gotten me to follow his first order, but that doesn’t mean I have to make it easy for him.
I take my time removing my boots and socks before reaching for the button of my jeans. Instead of facing him, I turn around and glance over my shoulder as I hook my thumbs beneath the waistband. His eyes are exactly where I want them.
Keeping my gaze on his, I slowly ease the denim over my hips. The faint pulse of music bleeds through the walls as the jeans slide lower, leaving me standing in nothing but the red lace thong he specifically told me to keep on.
Duncan doesn’t rush me. He sits back in the chair and watches while I finish pushing my jeans down my legs, giving me none of the reaction I’m trying to drag out of him. Fine. If he wants to play it that way, I can work harder.
Once the jeans hit the floor, I straighten and turn to face him. I should probably wait for his next instruction, but he has to know by now that obedience without a little trouble isn’t exactly my specialty. I tug on one of my nipple rings while my other hand slides over the red lace covering my hard cock, palming myself through the thin fabric as I watch his face.
“Like what you see?” I ask, biting my bottom lip when the pressure of my hand nearly pulls a moan out of me.
Duncan answers by unbuttoning his shirt, just like he did in his office. He takes his time before pulling it free from his slacks and leaning back in the chair with his legs spread. Christ on a cracker. The shape of his cock is impossible to miss, and calling that monster a bulge would be insulting.
“Come here.”
My body is more than happy to obey, but I take my time crossing the room because I’m still me, and Duncan Murphy doesn’t get instant obedience just because he looks fucking incredible sitting there half-undressed.
“What’s your safe word?”
“Pickles.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Pickles?”
“I hate pickles, so it seems fitting, don’t you think?”
He gives me a nod. “Lie across my lap.”
Oh, this is either the best waking dream of my life, or I’m in a coma somewhere and my brain has decided to make the most of it. I stretch across his lap, the red lace pulling tight as my hard cock presses against his thigh.
Duncan’s hand settles on my shoulder before moving down my back, and the roughness of his palm catches me off guard. I expected the kind of soft hands that belong behind the polished desk of a billionaire CEO, not calluses scraping lightly over my skin. Apparently, there are still quite a few things about Duncan Murphy I haven’t figured out.
His hand reaches my ass and closes around one cheek before his thumb begins tracing slow circles over my skin. I don’t need an instruction manual to figure out what’s coming.
“I’m going to give you the rules. Understand?” The circles he is rubbing on my ass let me know what’s coming.
“Yes,” I breathe, already anticipating the first strike.
His hand comes down hard enough to send the sting straight through me. Fuck, at this rate, I’m going to come in my panties.
“Yes, what?”
“Daddy,” I add on a moan. “Yes, Daddy.”
His palm rubs over the heated skin before coming down again. “You will never let another man touch you.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“You will be honest with me. I can work with anger, sarcasm and defiance, but I will not tolerate lies.” Another swat lands before his hand settles back over my ass.
“Yes, Daddy.” Please let this list be short.
“You will not put yourself in danger. If you need me, you call. No matter the hour or the reason.”
