Page 37 of For Real

The words sent a dark thrill through me. I straightened. “What do you want me to do?”

He patted my hip. “Up.”

It was hard not to remember our previous encounter as I got myself off the sofa and moved into the centre of the room. “All right?”

He nodded his approval—and God help me—that thrilled me too. “Yeah. Now, strip.”

I glanced towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, through which the moonlight and streetlight streamed in bands of alternating orange and silver. “Can I…um…close the curtains?”

“God. Fuck. Yeah.” Toby flushed and squirmed a little, which was not what I had wanted at all. “Totally.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled at that, still a little awkward. I crossed the room and saw to the curtains, and on the way back, he gestured me over.

I wasn’t quite sure what he wanted, so I went to one knee by the sofa. “Yes, Toby?”

He sat up, crossing his legs, and for a moment, he was silent, just looking down at me. Then he leaned in and kissed me chastely. “No, seriously, thank you. You’ve got this… You kind of… You make me feel like a fucking prince, you know that?”

Heat rushed over me, gratitude and pleasure and a touch of embarrassment. “I–I sometimes imagine you are one.”

“Oh yeah?”

I nodded.

“Like when?”

“When you were in the bath. I imagined you were…a prince and I was”—I suddenly couldn’t look at him—“your slave, I suppose.”

“Oh my God, really? That’s so hot. What kind of a prince was I?”

“Capricious. Spoiled. A little…cruel.”

“That’s totally the sort of prince I would be.” He sounded rather taken with the idea. “Would you mind?”

I looked up again, trying my best to keep the laughter from my voice. “Terribly.”

He made a helpless little noise and pressed a hand against his cock. “Yeah?”

“Yes. I’m proud. You’d make me suffer.”

“Jesus, Laurie. Don’t say that shit. I nearly came.”

I rested my head against his knee to hide my smile, and his fingers moved gently through my hair. “One thing at a time, hmm?”

“Yeah, but I’ve filed it away for later. You should beware of what you wish for.”

Oh God. “I already do, darling.”

He tugged on my hair, sending prickles of pleasure-pain all the way down my spine. “I hope you don’t think you can sweet-talk your way out of this. You’re meant to be taking your clothes off, remember?”

I gave him a look of…something. Mock disappointment maybe, but I was feeling too much that was real to manage a pretence of anything else. Then I stood on slightly shaky legs and did as he commanded. I’d stripped for Toby before, but it was different this time. Perhaps because I could no longer claim it was anonymous, or that I was merely indulging him. I wanted this, and I’d chosen it. Him.

When I was naked, trying to not shiver even though I wasn’t cold, Toby peeled off his shoes and socks and rose to his feet. I half expected an inspection of some sort—it was probably what anyone else would have done—but he just spanned his hands across my chest and muttered, “Fuck, you’re hot.” And somehow, that flayed me so utterly that it was nearly a relief when he added, “Now, on your knees.”

I went down gratefully.

“And pass me your tie and your belt.”

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