Page 22 of Accepting Love

As Martin walks away, Kingston sets his hand on my thigh and slides it slowly down between my legs. He’s not touching my panties, but he’s close, and I wish he would. I’m so damn aroused I’ll never be able to eat. He wiggles his fingers between my thighs. “Wider, Little one. If you need to, wrap your ankles around the legs of your chair as a reminder.”

I widen my legs, but I’m panting andmy God, it’s hot in here.

He pats my inner thigh. “Good girl. Tell me what your upcoming performance schedule looks like,” he says as he releases me entirely to reach for the bread. He pulls a piece off for me and sets it on my plate. “Don’t touch that yet. It’s hot, Little one.”

Why does my chest feel tight, like my breasts have expanded and no longer fit in my bra?

He glances at me. “Your schedule?”

“Oh. Uh, it’s not too heavy right now. I have the performance on Sunday afternoon. I don’t have anything for the coming week, and then I’m scheduled to be in your studio two or three times the following week. I practice about four hours a day unless I’m performing.”

He takes a bite of bread and dips it in the olive oil. I assume he’s going to eat it, but at the last second, he blows on it and then holds it up to my lips. “Try this. It’s amazing.”

I open my mouth and accept the bite, loving the intimate way I end up licking his fingers. It’s hard to focus on the bread, but it’s delicious and the flavors burst across my tongue. “Mmm. That’s so good.”

He grins and takes his own bite. “As much as I’d love to continue feeding you, that might draw attention.” He chuckles. “But you’re so damn cute, I’m looking forward to feeding you at home.”

I flush for the millionth time. “I might like that.”

Our meals arrive, and Kingston makes a point of putting my napkin in my lap and handing me my fork. “Eat, Little one. You’re distracting me. If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to have them box this all up and drag you back to your house.”

My breath hitches as I stare at him. I want to choose option number two, and I’m suddenly grateful for the cute panty set Audrey told me to wear. She was right. This man is probably going to see my panties tonight.

Kingston growls. “Eat, Caro.” He points at my plate.

I’m flirting with him. I can’t help it. It’s freeing. I’ve never so blatantly flirted with a man or instigated this sort of tease. I trust him. I’m comfortable with him. I want all the things.

This is probably moving too fast. I should slow down. I’m very Little right now, and that’s my greatest fear. How am I going to keep my two sides separate?

Sure, it’s no big deal here in this particular restaurant. We’re in a mostly secluded alcove. Kingston knows the owner and the staff. He’s kept his voice low. But he’s dominated me from the moment he picked me up. I love it, but I don’t straddle my two worlds well.

I need to keep my professional life separate. If I don’t, I will mess up and embarrass myself. If Kingston starts dominating me all the time, I’ll inevitably do something that will be career altering.

“Where did you go, Little one?” he asks, reaching for my thigh.

I glance up at him. We’ve been eating in silence for a while. “This lasagna is divine. Thank you for bringing me here.”

He squeezes my leg. “Talk to me, Caro. I want to know what you’re thinking about.”

I push a bite around on my plate. “Are you always going to be this insightful and bossy?”

He chuckles. “Yes. Probably worse.”

That makes me squirm, and in turn, his fingers slide between my legs, which makes me purse my lips and hold my breath.

Kingston slowly strokes the sensitive skin between my thighs, holding my gaze. “You take my breath away,” he breathes.

I swallow. “I don’t know if I have an adult persona when I’m with you,” I admit. “It scares me.”

“We’ll work on it. I promise. We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.” I want to. I do. But I’m freaking out. “Can we go home now?”

“Of course. If that’s what you want.”

I nod. When I look toward his plate, I see he’s finished nearly everything. I’m not rushing him. He flags down Martin and hands him a credit card. He keeps a hand on me constantly.

Soon, the bill is paid, and he’s helping me into my sweater as we stand. He keeps his hand on my lower back all the way out to the car. When we reach the door, he turns me to face him and cups my face. “Are you okay?”

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