Page 8 of Over the Line

“You sound sure of yourself, Sir,” she said, her voice muffled.

“I am, Sydney.”

“You know, Sir, I have never begged for anything in my entire life.”

“Tonight, brat, you will.” You’ve never been spanked by me. “I promise you.”

“We’ll see about that…” Then, after her challenge, she added a saucy, “Sir.”

Chapter Two

At Master Michael’s confident, arrogant-sounding statement, a thrill that had nothing to do with the evening air arced down Sydney’s spine. She had begged before, but not because she had meant it, only because it had been something that made her Top happy.

But if this gorgeous cowboy could truly drive her that far out of her mind…

She’d fantasized about playing with a Dom who was in tune with her, able to read what she wanted and needed and not just what she asked for.

Her visits to the Den were getting further apart, more from restlessness than because of her schedule. When she traveled, she sometimes checked out the scene in whatever city she was visiting. She’d tried new Doms, from renowned Tops to enthusiastic newbies. And she hadn’t bared herself to the same man twice.

Like her parents before her, she was a thrill-seeker. Her first encounter with BDSM at a college party had immediately captured her interest. After that, going back to normal sex hadn’t been possible. Still, every new high had left her wondering if there was anything else, anything better.

She’d been with some extreme players, and several years ago, she’d knelt to accept a collar. But true affection had been missing between her and Lewis. Finally, things had deteriorated to the point where Gregorio had found someone to cut the silver band off her neck. She’d left the pieces in the middle of the bed and never looked back.

On the other hand, Doms who were overly solicitous, as Master Michael had surmised, bored her.

So far, he seemed different from other men. She’d thought that would be a good thing, but now, being ignored, still half dressed, uncomfortably bent over a rail and hair spilling everywhere with her bottom exposed to anyone who was outside, she wasn’t as sure.

When she’d first spotted the gorgeous rancher, she’d been intrigued. She’d only been at the party a few minutes when she’d wandered to the window. From her vantage, she’d watched him accept an energy drink. He’d nodded politely to the pretty submissive who’d fetched it for him.

Some guests, Doms and Dommes alike, ignored servers, but this cowboy seemed to have old-world manners.

Sydney had intentionally timed her walk across the patio. As she’d exaggeratedly moved her hips, hoping to catch his attention, she’d prayed she wouldn’t fall off her ridiculously high heels.

When she’d noticed Gregorio moving toward Master Michael, she’d gritted her teeth. But obviously, he hadn’t been deterred, and it had been all she could do not to pump her fist in joy.

Now, she was wondering if her enthusiasm had been misplaced. Perhaps she should have asked Gregorio about Master Michael before agreeing to play. “Can we get on with it, Sir?”

“When I’m ready.”

Damn you. Earlier, when he’d slapped her pussy, she’d nearly orgasmed. Then he’d restrained her ankles and stroked the insides of her thighs. She had been certain he’d start the action quickly. But since then, he had barely touched her, just enough to intrigue her. And now impatience was curling in her stomach.

She released her grip to stretch her fingers.

“Stay still, please.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, not because she meant it, but because it was expected. She understood his rules and she’d play by them to get some skin-on-skin satisfaction.

Startling her, he grabbed both of her ass cheeks. Then he squeezed unbelievably hard, making her gasp.

“Too much?”

God, no. “It was fine, Sir.” Once the shock receded, a warm glow settled in. No one had done that before, and damn, the surprise tantalized. She tingled, wondering what was next.

“So is there a reason you’re not holding on as you’re supposed to be?”

“Sorry, Sir.” She grabbed the bar again.

“Do you do that often?”

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