Page 21 of Puppy on a Leash

Jaime responded to it, regardless. He didn’t turn around, but he stopped mid-stride, his left foot landing slowly on the wooden planks.

I reached him before he could change his mind. If there was anyone who could do that in the blink of an eye, it would be him. That much, I was learning quickly.

I wrapped my hand around his wrist before I could overthink it. His pulse betrayed his stillness. The knowledge set something free in me, let me breathe in a way I hadn’t been able to before.

This was the kind of unbalanced ground I was used to, the one I’d sought out since I’d started dabbling in kink.

My chest brushed against his back. The zap of electricity zinged us both, but I was more focused on him and the way his lips parted. He’d been right in my not having any experiencewith bodies like his. I had experience holding control, though—taking and keeping it.

“Are you thinking straight now?”

“Huh?” The sound was breathy, barely there.

“It’s a simple question.”

If Jaime had shown me anything, it was that he could think on the spot. He didn’t need me to talk him through something because he was in subspace and too overwhelmed to make a connection or two.

I liked it more than I thought I would—the power that came with the knowledge that he was actively choosing to stay in that position. All subs did, of course, but there was something different about a sub who kept their wits around them.

Jaime cleared his throat. His arms tensed. My hold on his wrist didn’t ease up. “Yeah.”

That sounded like it hurt. It sounded like the kind of answer that should have my throat drying up and my heart rate spiking. There was some of that nervous reaction I couldn’t quite control, but it wasn’t all of it. I focused on the power surging through me instead.

“Lose the attitude, then, and come hump my leg like a good pup.”

Jaime snorted. He tried, at least. “Most people consider leg humping the opposite of good behavior.”

I hummed. I moved my other hand to splay over his abdomen. He was lean, but not ripped with muscles. I knew he was fit—the latex puppy gear he owned clung to his skin like a glove, leaving little to the imagination—but there was something visceral about touch.

“If you don’t want praise, you just have to say so.”

The pup spluttered. It was the most sub-like response he’d given ever since he stormed inside my space. “Why areyouchanging your mind?”

I grunted. He talked too much. “Let go of the backpack, pup. And the bag of food.”

He didn’t, not right away, but he turned around. There were so many questions in that hooded gaze of his. It didn’t matter that the description made no sense, that it wasn’t realistic—seeing questions in someone’s eyes. It fit the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way he tried to keep eye contact without swaying.

“Okay.”I thought he was going to discard the backpack at his feet. Jaime surprised me again, moving to place it gently by the door. “What now?”

“Now, you take off your shoes again, put up the food in the fridge.” I smirked when he couldn’t hold in a huff of annoyance. “And you follow me upstairs.”

Upstairs was where I had a small playroom. It was nothing big or flashy, but it was there, and it beat filling my bedroom with memories and ghosts of touches that would haunt me at night.

“I have conditions.”

The words might have made me pause more if he wasn’t toeing off the shoes as he spoke.

“Name them.”

His body was turned away, but he glanced my way before speaking. “You sure?”

“In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m not one for beating around the bush, pup. Say your piece, start obeying, or leave.”

I wasn’t keeping him here. Maybe it would be easier if I could blame myself for it later, but Jaime wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t naive, innocent, or someone who could even try to play that card. He was here because he wanted to be, and he was fully aware of the ramifications, even when those made his jaw set and a sort of heat that resembled hatred flash through his eyes.

He was more expressive than he probably liked.

Too bad that expressiveness was somethingIliked. Something I’d enjoy exploiting, if we got there.

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