Page 75 of Puppy on a Leash

I grunted, my muscles tensing, itching to move the fuck away. This obsession with asking stupid questions was annoying.

“Because?” I shook my head before he could say anything. Those tendrils of anger might be wrapping around me, but it didn’t mean I lost all sense. It didn’t mean I needed anyone telling mebecausewas nowhere near an acceptable answer. “I want more, Sir.”

Part of it was that I wanted to prove myself. Another part was the absolute conviction that I needed this. But saying the first part would put a stop to it. Tony’s words from earlier about him being the one who decided that shit resonated in my head.

Saying the latter was more likely to get me the results I wanted, but it left me more vulnerable, too, exposed more parts of myself I was still coming to terms with. It left a sour taste in the back of my mouth—the knowledge that I wasn’t being completely honest, that I was treading that line where one could say I was taking Tony’s ability to consent away.

The thoughts kept jumbling, becoming more complex. My heartbeat kept picking up, too, thrumming in my chest.

I wanted to scratch at my chest so badly.

Tony rested his hand on my ass.

He didn’t spank me, knead the skin, or tease. But that simple move let me breathe. It stilled everything else. Only he and his hand existed.

“Most of you can’t appreciate it from the floor, but the shift in their body was immediate as soon as I placed my hand on them.” His voice was lulling. It should’ve added to my annoyance—the fact that he was referring to our makeshift audience instead of me—but it helped take me back to that headspace where things were quieter. “We know certain kinks, especially those that play heavier with pain, can lead to a sub panicking for any reason.

“Now, there’s not one true valid way to act when it happens.” Tony cleared his throat. He flexed his fingers. I pushed against him, no further thinking involved. There was another flex of his fingers in response. It felt like more of an intentional caress this time instead of simple reflex. “You can put a stop to the scene right away and move on to giving a hefty dose of aftercare. Personally, I like to take a calmer approach.”

That calmer approach better involve getting me off in some way. The lulling helped, but as it seeped through every pore, it brought back awareness to everything else my body was feeling.

I clenched my thighs while biting on my lip. He was trying to explain shit for the newbies. It was not the time or place to snap about how horny I was.

I had some self-control.

“Isn’t that ignoring your sub?” someone from the back hollered.

I didn’t recognize the voice, but it made me tense nonetheless.

Any other day, I would’ve moved to tell them myself what I thought about their bullshit take.

Their tone, rather.

Tony moved so that he could curl his free hand around my arm.

Huh.

Was I that predictable or, worse, easy to read?

“Ignoring my sub would look like continuing to spank him the second he stopped crying. Or before, for that matter.” With him moving, I could get a clearer angle of his face, so I focused on the way he fought to not roll his eyes while his face contorted into a snarl. I knew he couldn’t keep up the patient professor act forever, even though it weirdly suited him. “So far, Jaime said he wanted me to check in if he started crying, which is what I’m doing. What I’m saying is that, when you’re readingsomeone’s body language, and you feel like they’re on the verge of panicking for any reason? You can put a stop to everything, or you can lean into everything you know about your sub and take them back to a safer headspace where you can renegotiate with them properly.”

I moaned. Renegotiating? Seriously?

Yet, the protest died in the back of my throat.

Tony was making too much fucking sense.

“Any other questions?”

His tone was so sharp, so biting, I wasn’t surprised by the mutinous silence. I could turn my head around and see everyone’s faces and what they were thinking.

I had no interest in it.

The only thing that was interesting was the way Tony shifted his attention back to me. His eyes burned with heat, with a steel focus I wasn’t used to from him. He was always focused, but he usually leaned into that subtle way of his which wasn’t subtle at all. I couldn’t remember one instance where he’d pierced me with his gaze the way he was doing now.

“Color, pup?”

I breathed out. Words lodged in my throat for one, two, three seconds.

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