Page 71 of Training His Pet

“Sure thing.”

“Okay, thanks. I gotta run.” Dax clicked off the call and flung open the screen door, scooping up Erika in his arms and heading straight to the living room where the other piece of equipment he’d rented had been set up.

Chapter Twenty-Four

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“Wanna play, pet?” Dax asked as he put Erika down from his arms and gently shoved her to her knees.

Her pussy had been craving his touch since he put her to bed in the crate the night before. Now that the punishment was over, she wanted her reward. She wanted to feel him.

His dark eyes roamed over her naked, kneeling form.

“Stay here.” He touched his finger to her nose then left her in the living room. She eyed the wooden horse she’d spotted in the corner. Would he use that? Would he tie her to it? Fuck her bent over it?

Dax carried a small red rubber ball in his hand when he came back into the room with a large grin plastered over his face. She didn’t mistake his glee for mercy; whatever activity he had planned wouldn’t be any typical foreplay she’d ever experienced.

He pulled off his t-shirt and draped it over the wooden beam of the horse. Leaning back against it, he crossed his left foot over his right. He’d shed his boots and socks in the bedroom.

“I told you I’d pick out a toy for you at the store. Ready?” he asked, holding the ball up between his fingers.

He tossed the ball lightly, and it rolled toward her on the floor.

“Fetch, sweet girl,” he called with laughter bubbling below his tone.

She clamped her mouth shut and eyed the ball. It rolled to a stop a few feet from where she knelt. After a quick glance in his direction to be sure his smile was still playfully resting on his lips, she scrambled forward and retrieved the ball between her teeth.

“Bring it here, girl.” He patted his thighs. An electric current of arousal mixed with humility burst through her veins as she crawled to him and got up on her knees to hand him the ball.

He opened his hand. “Drop it.”

The ball landed in his palm. He closed his fingers around the ball, except for his middle finger. That he used to run along her jawline.

“Good girl, fetch again.” He tossed the ball again, this time onto the loveseat.

She eyed him only for a brief moment before taking off on her hands and knees to get the ball. Willing obedience. It’s what he wanted, and the more she gave it, the more she craved to give it to him.

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