Page 40 of The Assignment: Room 3

“Are you a whore, pet?”

“Yes!”

“And whose whore are you for now?”

“Yours. Fuck!”

I grab her ass, knowing she’ll enjoy the blissful agony coursing through her body as I claim her pleasure and pain. “Address me properly, or there will be no more orgasms for you tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Master Navarro.” Her words are desperate. She’s greedy for more.

“Good girl.” I slap her ass, making her cry out before I bury my face in her pussy and send her crashing over the edge, relishing every drop as she creams for me, screaming my name.

“Oh God… yes… Master Navarro… yes!”

I let her ride the aftershocks, loving every moment as her legs shake and she collapses, breathless and boneless.

“You’re so fucking hot, pet. I think I’m going to like our little friends-with-benefits agreement.”

She moves to cover herself, but I reach for her wrists—so small I can wrap one hand around both. “What do you think you’re doing? Did I say you could cover up?”

“No, Master Navarro.”

“You may simply call me Master in here.”

“What shall I call you out in the bar?”

“Flex is fine. You’re not my official sub, however, if we are in a scene upstairs, I expect to be addressed in full. Master Navarro.”

“Yes, Master. May I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“What are the rules for friends with benefits?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not in a relationship. Are we free to sleep with other people? Do we have to sign a contract?”

“Would you feel more comfortable signing a contract?”

“I trust you, and we’re just friends who are going to indulge in some playtime and scratch the itch. Right?” I didn’t think this through when I dropped to my knees upstairs, so I don’t know what answer she’s hoping for.

“Right. I’m fine without a contract if you are. You’re not my full-time sub, and I’m not your Dom. You are free to sleep with whomever you choose when I’m not at the club. If I’m here, I expect you to ask permission if you want to ‘indulge’ with someone else.”

“Okay. I can’t really be here at the drop of a hat.”

“Why not?” She’s piqued my interest.

“I have a life outside the club. I work long hours, and I have other commitments.” I can tell she’s holding back. If she were my submissive in every sense of the word, I would demand she explain, but as a ‘friend,’ I don’t have that right.

“Text me when you’re available and ready to pla…” Before I finish the sentence, she cuts me off, her gaze fixed on the clock at the other end of my playroom.

“Shit. Is that the time?”

“Yes. We have plenty of time to put that little mouth of yours to good use tonight, pet.”

She pulls the sheet around herself, agitated as she gets to her feet. “I have to go.”

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