The elevator stops, and I lead him to my apartment.
The moment the door closes behind us, I reach for the light switch, but his hand catches my wrist. Somehow I’m pinned against the wall, his large form holding me in place with my wrists locked above my head. My heart jumps into my throat as I wonder what will happen next. Raw sexual chemistry burns hotly between us; there’s no denying the attraction. And I have a feeling things are about to get real.
“I’m going to kiss you. This is your chance to say yes or no.” His grip is firm, yet his voice is soft.
Indecision rips through me. I should say no; we’re working together. This isn’t about romance and flowers. But I want his lips on mine more than I want my next breath.
“Yes.”
The second the word leaves my lips, his mouth is on mine, dominating me with a rush of hungry kisses. His lips move against mine while his hand adjusts my jaw to just the right angle, and when he finds it, his tongue sweeps out and licks at mine.
Damn, the man can kiss. A weakness sweeps over me and my knees nearly give out.
When he releases my hands, I claw at his suit jacket, wanting him closer. His huge, heavy erection presses against my belly, and my inner muscles clench in delicious anticipation.
His hands slide down my body until they find my ass. He grips my butt, one cheek in each rough palm, kneading and squeezing as he groans into my mouth. My panties dampen instantly.
When he pulls his mouth from mine, I gasp for breath, feeling disoriented like I’ve just run a marathon. And fuck, that was from just one kiss.
“Were you going to let that man touch your wet little pussy?” His voice is deep and slightly breathless.
“No!” I gasp.
“That’s right you’re not. He did nothing to earn that privilege. And for the next six weeks, this pussy is mine. Say it, Brielle.”
“For the next six weeks, I’m yours.”
“Not good enough. Say it.”
“My pussy is yours.” My intimate muscles clench as the words leave my mouth.
“That’s right,” he says, moving his hand over the front of my dress to cup my sex through the fabric. “Mine.” When my hips involuntarily push toward his hand, he meets my eyes with a serious expression. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it, peach? Should I let you come so you’re able to focus on our lesson?”
I make a weak, desperate sound in my throat, my lust-fogged brain fighting with myself to hold it together when…oh.
His hands slip beneath the hem of my dress and tug my panties down my hips. The black thong slips to my ankles, stopping at my heels. I must be quite a sight, pinned against the wall with my underwear at my feet.
He pets the seam of my sex, parting me, and when he finds me slick, he glides his fingers through my folds and groans. Then he brings his fingers to his mouth and tastes them. My cheeks become warm and I’m overcome with a strange feeling. Reverence? Desire?
“Fuck, you taste good.”
After licking his fingers clean, he lowers his hand again and plunges two fingers deep inside me, causing me to cry out from the sudden and very pleasurable invasion.
“Have to get this ready for me. I don’t want to hurt you,” he growls, thrusting two fingers in and out.
I latch onto his biceps, hanging on for dear life. Pleasure explodes inside me, and nothing has ever felt quite so good. My head thumps back against the wall when his thumb rubs between my thighs. His fingers slide deep inside me, stroking, pleasing me as no man has before.
When his mouth lowers to mine again and he bites my bottom lip, I explode, coming so intensely, I see a burst of white light behind my eyelids. I gasp for air, my eyes opening to find his.
“Do you always come so fast, peach?” he asks.
I don’t answer. I simply stand there, hanging on to him as I fight to catch my breath.
“You’re beautiful when you let go.”
He releases his hold on me and brings one hand to my cheek, where he uses the pad of his thumb to carefully stroke my lower lip. Reminded of how he bit me, I flinch, but he kisses away the sting, murmuring an apology. It’s dizzying how he can be so domineering and rough one moment, and then sweet and tender the next.
He leans in close, as calm and collected as ever. “Go into your bedroom, take off your dress, kneel on the floor, and wait for me.”
Despite my intense release mere moments ago, my body is hungry for more. More of everything. Those skillful kisses, rough hands, and the filthy words meant to make me submit.
I reach down to pull my panties back up, when a firm hand on my wrist stops me.
He shakes his head. “Who said you could put those back on?” He helps me step out of my panties and dangles them from his index finger. “My sexy little peach,” he murmurs.
When he tucks my discarded panties into his pocket, I know I’ve been dismissed.
My shaky legs carry me down the short, dark hallway into my bedroom. I’m unsure if I should turn on the light, but decide to do exactly as he asked. With trembling fingers, I untie the strings at the back of my neck and let the dress pool at my feet, then step out of my heels and place everything beside my dresser.
Once I’m completely nude, I kneel in the center of the room with my gaze trained on the floor and wait. My heartbeat is crashing against my ribs, and I’m filled with a strange sense of longing and anticipation. Sex is never like this. It’s always been in a bed, under the covers, without any dirty talk or forceful commands. Simple and straightforward. I know sex with my Dom is going to be anything but ordinary. And that’s way more exciting than it should be.