Page 33 of On His Terms

He cleared his throat, seeking to regain his emotional distance. “Now unless you want to earn a punishment, you’ll get on with it.”

“Of course.”

He released his grip on her chin and eased his hand away from her, severing their connection. “I’ll meet you downstairs, at my leisure.” Maybe after he jacked off.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, submissive trust dancing through her words.

At the doorway, she paused and looked back at him. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something. He waited. Then, with a tiny shake of her head, she left—the floral, feminine scent of her lingering on the air.

What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

Jesus.

From the moment he’d first seen her, she’d bewitched him. It would require self-control to keep himself physically and mentally at a distance from her.

Shaking off his unwelcome introspection, he ordered his home computer to close the main floor blinds. Then he crossed to a drawer in his closet where he selected two instructional pieces, along with a tawse designed by Master Marcus. Fancifully, Marcus had etched a dollar symbol into the leather, in honor of the first multimillion-dollar deal Alex had brokered.

Once he no longer heard distant sounds, he walked down the stairs.

Chelsea was exactly where he’d ordered, kneeling up per his preference. She’d remembered, and that pleased him.

After placing his toys on an end table, he swept a cursory glance over her, but said nothing. Instead, he folded his arms, waiting, watching, testing her resolve. “Very nice,” he eventually approved.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Louder.”

She took a breath. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Inspect.” He was pleased when she stood, her head up, looking straight ahead to the window. She placed her hands behind her head and thrust out her breasts. Finally, she spread her legs. “You remembered.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Even as he closed the distance, she continued to look ahead.

He circled her a couple of times, and she remained perfectly in position. “You shaved your pussy.”

“I did, Sir.”

Everything he’d asked for, she’d delivered. “Mind if I see how good of a job you did?”

“Please go ahead, Sir.”

He ran his hand over her bare mound, then slipped a finger between her folds. “Smooth.”

Already damp from desire, she jerked against his hand. Could she be any more perfect?

“You won’t be needing your tweezers after all, Sir?”

“Pity.”

She gasped a little.

Alex dropped his hand. Because of their previous play, she likely had expectations about how the rest of this procedure would work, so he changed it up. “Turn around and show me your ass.”

“Do you want me on all fours, Sir?”

Obviously she’d recalled his instruction to Brandy. “Not necessary.”

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