Page 66 of Compelled Obedience

“Kerri? When I ask you a question, you will answer me. You will not hesitate. You will not second guess me.”

God. This was more difficult than I’d thought it would be. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad we agree. Then I’ll take this with me when I leave. I’ll provide permission when you deserve it. For now, the wand belongs to me.”

His dominance was sexy and enthralling, yet irritating and oppressive. I had no idea what to say. I watched as he placed the implement on my dresser, the corners of his mouth turning up. Now he owned a secret of mine.

When he pressed his butt against the edge of the dresser, folding his arms and crossing his legs, I took a deep breath.

“Face me,” he commanded.

I did so without hesitation, still feeling a warm flush cresting across my jaw.

“Undress. I want to see that sexy dance you allow every other man who walks into my club to see.” There was more than a hint of possession in his words, the dark, gravelly voice sending a flash of tingles all the way to my toes. I also gathered a second of jealousy, as if no other man would be allowed to watch me dance again.

“What if I say no?” I teased.

He took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds. I’d never had anyone look at me with such determination to own me, his chiseled jaw more angular than before. I was thrilled by his possessive nature, which was contrary to mine, yet not only did he make it exciting, he made the thought of ownership exactly what I needed.

“Then I won’t touch you, my sweet Kerri, unless you do as I say. I’ll leave you wanting more, your needs spiraling out of control. And I won’t allow you to pleasure yourself using any method after I’m gone. Do you understand me?”

I nodded, my nerves on the edge. He had a way of doing that to me just by the sound of his voice. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Allow me to see how obedient you are.”

I took a few seconds admiring his gorgeous physique. Maybe I was still completely nervous around him. My fingers trembled as I tugged at the hem of the festive shirt. I was ready to jerk it off when he lifted a single eyebrow.

“Show me how you dance, Kerri. I won’t ask you again.”

Why did his dark voice send an electrified chill down my back? When I wore the costume, I was allowed to be someone else, performing becoming an escape. But he was already learning so many of my dark, ugly secrets that soon I wouldn’t be able to hide behind anything.

I shifted my hips, trying to generate the heady drumbeat of the music from the club. Seconds later, I was shocked I managed to find a rhythm I could dance to, now gyrating my hips in time to a silent beat.

Dancing was a pleasure, a release and I closed my eyes, pretending that I was rocking the cage as men of all ages eyed me with hunger in their eyes. I spun around, tossing my hair several times, enjoying the lightheaded sensations more than I had before. I felt sensual, almost beautiful, even if my body wasn’t stick thin or perfect.

When I heard his breathing change, becoming heavier, I opened my eyes, tossing my head over my shoulder before throwing out a single arm. I pointed my index finger, wiggling it as I dragged my tongue across my lips. He remained unblinking, his chest rising and falling. The deep blue of his eyes was no longer visible, replaced with an indescribable color, gold flecks sparkling in the light.

I moved closer, spinning around to face the opposite direction then slowly, seductively pulling the shirt up my chest, easing it from my shoulders and head. Then I turned slightly, blowing him a kiss before tossing it aside. As I allowed my gaze to fall ever so slowly to his groin, every cell was on fire. He was thick and hard, his cock throbbing against his trousers.

My mouth watering, I crossed my arms over my chest as I faced him, shimmying my hips until I finally was rewarded with a slight smile.

“Be careful teasing me, my sweet,” he growled.

After licking my lips again, I laughed softly then purred, keeping my back toward him as I slipped my fingers under the waistband of my shorts and sexy thong. In truth, I didn’t want to keep him waiting any longer, my cravings too intense.

I pushed them past my hips, allowing gravity to take them to the floor, kicking them aside.

“Turn to face me,” he directed.

The darker his tone of voice, the more I felt as if I was being swallowed into a vacuum, one I’d never want to leave.

He took another deep breath, holding it as his heated gaze fell even more slowly to my painted toes then back to my eyes. Then he pointed to the floor. “On your knees. Crawl to me.”

The fact I’d garnered approval from performing the act of submission before sent a wave of goosebumps down my arms. I dropped to the floor, feeling like a dirty little girl. As I started to crawl toward him, I assumed the role of a bad kitten longing for a bowl of milk.

There was no denying his desire or the fact he was losing patience with the training session. I could tell by how uncomfortable he seemed, constantly adjusting the thick bulge between his legs. I crawled closer, still out of reach. This was my moment of taking control, which could likely be my last. He wasn’t the kind of man to allow me to indulge in feeling this way but for so long.

When I was within a few inches, he placed his hand on the top of my head, pressing his fingers into my scalp and taking a deep breath.

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