Page 557 of Deep Pockets

It was the perfect position for a man who would be most comfortable getting to his knees.

He wasn’t that man. “Back up. Put your head on the pillow.”

How long had it been since he’d done this? He’d had some sex, though the encounters had been hurried affairs that had been more about servicing a submissive who needed it than filling his own wants.

He needed her. He needed to know he could still have this, but somehow it hadn’t mattered until he’d gotten close to her. He wasn’t going to lie to himself. This wasn’t about any woman or simple sex. This was about Tiffany, about making love to her, dominating her. About giving to her, and damn straight about taking what he needed from her.

“I thought,” she began.

He didn’t want her thinking. He didn’t want to discuss why he wouldn’t get to his knees. He wasn’t about to tell her that it would hurt to do it because he hadn’t been taking care of himself. No sympathy. It wasn’t what he wanted from her. He had a sudden, savage need for her obedience. He gripped her ankles and flipped her over, his hand coming down in a rapid arc as he laid ten smacks across her pretty ass. “Don’t think. Do as I ask. Are you frightened? Have I asked you to do something that you find repulsive?”

“Of course not,” she replied, but he could hear the frustration in her voice.

“Then do as I ask or tell me you don’t want to play.” He wasn’t sure what he would do if she told him to go to hell. He wasn’t asking so much. He simply didn’t want to bring his legs into this. He wanted to play with her, not tell her his sob story.

She got to her knees, her pinkened ass on display. Her head turned and there was a stubborn stare in her eyes. “Yes, Master.”

She wanted to ask him questions, wanted to push it, but she complied with his orders. She turned and gracefully lay back on the bed. So graceful. So delicate. He wasn’t even close to her beauty, likely hadn’t been even when he’d had two legs.

She slowly spread her legs for him, somehow making the gesture an elegant dance meant to seduce him. He didn’t need it. He was thoroughly seduced by her.

In two easy moves, he twisted his tie off and pulled his shirt over his head. He’d missed the skin-to-skin contact with her earlier. His chest and back had some scarring, but he was careful about the gym. He was muscular and well defined, his upper-body strength needed to make up for his lack of legs.

“You’re even more beautiful without clothes, too.” Her lips had curled up like the cat who’d gotten all the cream.

When she looked at him like that, he forgot he wasn’t whole.

He left his slacks on. They would never come off. He would play it like it was all a part of his kink, but for now he concentrated on her. If he gave her enough pleasure, she wouldn’t notice how much he was holding back, how much he simply didn’t have to give to her. He moved to the end of the bed and climbed on with her. He managed not to wince at the pain that flared through his right leg. It didn’t matter. It would heal eventually.

But this…this mattered. She was so fucking gorgeous. He didn’t have to hold back with this woman, didn’t have to pretend or prevaricate. She knew he was a pervert and she was fine with it. He breathed in the scent of her arousal while he stared down at the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen.

Plump and ripe and perfectly smooth. He leaned over and laid a chaste kiss on her mound. “You’re to remain perfectly still. Do you need me to tie you up?”

He didn’t want to stop what he was doing, but he had to see what she wanted. This was a lover’s game and he had to give her a chance.

“I’ll be still.” Her voice had gone breathless.

He looked up her body and she was staring down at him, her hands having gone to the headboard at the top of the bed. Her fingers had curled around the slats as though she were about to hold on for dear life. Or attempt to make her Master happy by following his rules.

He let his hands run along the silky skin of her inner thighs, spreading them wider until she was completely open to his mercy.

He was going to have none.

“Tell me this is mine.” He wanted to hear it from her. He had her name on a contract, but he needed to hear it from her lips that she was his now that they had zero reason to continue except that they wanted to.

He wanted to.

“It’s yours, Sebastian. All yours,” she replied without hesitation. “I’m so glad we didn’t end this tonight. I want to try this with you. Not because Big Tag said so or because Adam needed us. I want to try because I think we could be very good for each other. I want to try because the idea of going back to being polite to each other at work makes me insane.”

It made him insane, too. Work would change. Eventually they would go back to Dallas and to their separate homes, but he would still be her Master at work. He could be if he wasn’t a complete chickenshit. He could have her and she would never have to know how broken he was.

All she would ever have to know was how good he could make her feel.

“I don’t want to be polite, Tiffany. And I don’t want to be friends or coworkers. I want this.” He lowered his head and let his tongue run lightly over her.

She shivered beneath him but held her place. A low moan came from her throat and it went straight to his dick. Yes, that was what he wanted to hear from her. He wanted her moaning his name, calling out for him.

He settled in, loving how wet she was. He’d done that. She was responding to him and he intended to make sure she never regretted it. Here in bed and in play he would give her everything he had. Everything she could need.

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