Page 58 of Moonlit Thorns

She holds my gaze for a beat, studying my now bare face, then nods.

I sit on the edge of the tub, studying her for any sense of what she’s feeling after her first experience in the basement. She’s quieter than normal. I don’t know whether it’s because she’s tired, or she regrets what happened.

“You need to talk to me, Anabelle. A Dom/Sub relationship is all about communication.”

“Is that what I am? Your sub?” I can’t tell from her expression whether she’s hoping I’ll say yes or no.

I’ve had a few steady subs through the years, but no one who ever lasted long. There’s never been anyone I wanted to form a long-term relationship with. But I can see myself saying yes to Anabelle. To practicing that kind of relationship with her outside of the confines of the sex club. Which is why I have to say no.

“When we’re in the basement, yes. Otherwise, you work for me, just like I said when we negotiated this whole thing.”

Disappointment is clear on her face, but she masks it quickly. “Right, I know that.”

“You still haven’t answered how you’re feeling about what happened down there.”

She sucks in a lungful of air, and it makes her breasts rise in the water just shy of her nipples. “I liked it.”

I roll my eyes. “What did you like about it? Be more specific.”

She thinks about it for a moment, running her hand back and forth in the water and studying the ripples that follow. Then she meets my gaze. “I liked that you were in control. That I felt safe even though I didn’t know what to expect and hadn’t done anything like that before. I… liked that I was the one to turn you on. When you talked to me and said… dirty things… I liked that.”

I swallow as my dick twitches in my pants. It’s all I can do not to haul her out of there and fuck her again in front of the mirror so that I can have a front-row view. “Does that mean you want to do it again next month?”

She nods immediately, and a chuckle escapes despite myself. Anabelle gives me a funny look.

“What?” I ask, frowning.

“I’ve just never seen you laugh like that before.”

Uncomfortable with her insight and the truth of it, I stand, then reach down to drain the water. When I straighten, I offer her my hand. “Here.”

With my help, she steps out onto the bath mat. I grab a towel from the hook and begin to dry her.

“I can do that,” she says.

“I want to.” Again, the truth escapes. It’s as if this woman is my own version of a truth serum. It’s unnerving to say the least.

Once she’s dry, I don’t bother wrapping the towel around her. Instead, I lead her into my room and over to my bed. I sit on the edge near the bedside table and grab the lotion I have ready for her.

“Come lay over my lap face down.”

She blinks and hesitates for a moment, then does what I say. The heat of her body seeps into my legs, and my cock stirs again, which I’m sure she can feel in this position. Trying to ignore it, I take a good amount of the cream and spread it around her ass cheeks and the backs of her thighs.

It doesn’t take long, but when I’m done, I don’t want to remove my hand. As I draw my hand up from behind her knee to the juncture of her thighs, I think about how easy it would be to slide my fingers inside her. I repeat the motion over and over, and my cock grows harder underneath her. Anabelle’s breath hitches, and a small moan escapes her.

My fingers hover between her thighs each time I bring my hand up, debating. But I can’t do it. I can’t. If I do, then next thing I know, I’ll have her under my desk giving me head in the middle of the work day, and I’ll want to take her in the pool in the oppressive summer humidity.

No. I have these boundaries for a reason, and I have to remember that.

I give her ass a light smack. “You’re done. Grab your robe, and you can go back to your room.”

I don’t have to see her face to feel the disappointment wafting off of her.

She climbs off my lap, somewhat awkwardly, and looks around for her robe, quickly rushing over to put it on when she spots it.

“I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.” It’s an asshole-ish thing to say as far as parting words go after what happened tonight, but I need to make sure the lines between us are clear.

“Okay.” Her shoulders sag, and she walks toward the door. With her hand on the handle, she turns and looks at me over her shoulder. “Did you like it? You never said.”

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