Make Me, Sir

confuse the desire to be dominated with desire for the dom.”

She stared at him for a moment, and then her eyes narrowed. “We can’t have a relationship because you think I’m too young? God, Z, I’m thirty. How old do I have to be to know my own mind?”

The sparks lighting her eyes delighted him-she was rapidly returning to normal-but he had enough experience with women to realize that if he smiled, she’d throw something at him. “I might have been overly cautious,” he admitted.

“I’d say so. I’m still here, aren’t I? I know where the door is, and I know how to say ‘no thanks.’ You’re being stupid. Get over it.”

He sat back in his chair, a bit stunned. Her cheeks had flushed with-ah, that was definitely anger. And there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind. Well, then.

Uh, oh. He’d gotten a look on his face that boded no good for her, yet everything in her rejoiced because the expression wasn’t that of a man who was bored with his girlfriend, but the possessive look of a dom.

She winced. Had she really called him stupid?

“Let me see if I have this straight,” he said in a chillingly smooth voice. “You want a commitment. And do you want children to go with that?”

She sputtered. “You make it sound like, ‘Here’s your order. Do you want fries with that?’”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I want fries-I mean children. With you.” Telling him about her hopes made her feel as if she stood naked on a cliff in a cold wind. Why could they discuss everything else, but this…this seemed harder? “I want at least one baby, maybe two. And considering how rude one of your kids is, I’ll probably do a better job of motherhood than your ex.”

His lips twitched as if he’d started to smile. But this baring the soul was too one-sided, and she faltered. “W- would you want more children?”

He steepled his fingers and gave her a level look over the top. “Jessica, I work with children. I like children. And I’d enjoy actually being present this time. I’ve always regretted being out of the country so much when Eric and Richard were growing up.”

Oh. She breathed out as her ballooning anxiety started to deflate. “Really?”

“Really. And maybe I should add that Eric asked me to convey his apologies for his rudeness.” Z smiled. “He’ll come around, kitten. Now go on, give me the rest.”

The rest. She mustered her thoughts, lined up his objections. Her wants had been tabulated; she needed to sum it all up. Like their ages. The idiot. “Okay, you’re older. Not much, really. And considering you love staying in shape and I refuse to run, we’ll probably get all old and crippled at the same time. If not, then I’ll learn to use a cane, and I’ll get to beat on your ass for a change.”

He laughed, actually laughed, and she grinned. Maybe her hopes wouldn’t materialize, but she felt the healing between them, the sense of rightness return.

“You are an awful submissive,” he said softly. “Quite the brat. Are you going to also address that small problem of yours now?”

She hunched her shoulders. He was tired of her mouthiness, wasn’t he? Her hopes shriveled. Then she remembered what Gabi had said: “No wonder Z adores you.” The jerk was playing his psychology tricks on her. She pushed her hair back over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose at him. “Nope. You like me as I am.”

He shook his head, smiling faintly. “No, Jessica-I love you as you are.” He rose and stripped the covers right off her, and she realized he’d removed her clothes when he’d helped her to bed. She squeaked and instinctively grabbed for the sheet.

Grasping her forearms, avoiding the sore spots from the cuffs, he looked into her eyes. “I won’t restrain you… today…since you’ve had enough of that. Instead, you will turn over and kneel. Hold on to the head of the bed. Open your legs to me. For every time you move from that position, I’ll add another swat from Mistress Anne’s favorite paddle.”

She winced. The domme had a paddle with MINE carved out, so a smack not only pinkened a butt cheek but left raised white areas spelling out the word. He watched, his jaw stern, as she rolled over onto her knees and grabbed the headboard.

“Wider, Jessica.”

Oh, God. But she felt moisture gather between her legs and how her heart rate hammered. She looked over her shoulder and saw his gray eyes darken with pleasure as he looked at her. Her excitement skyrocketed. His ruthless hands opened her even more widely, and then he touched her, running his fingers through her folds, teasing her clit until she squirmed. Dammit, a year ago he’d scared her with how well he could play her body. Now he was terrifying.

She heard him unbuckle his belt and open his slacks. He came up behind her, his knees between hers. The coarse hair on his thighs teased her buttocks. Oh God, she needed him so badly, she whimpered.

He pulled her back against his chest, turning her slightly. Threading his fingers in her hair, he tethered her as he took her mouth, his lips firm, his kiss blatantly hard and possessive until she felt as if she was drowning in sensation. Held by his fist in her hair, his mouth, she couldn’t move as his free hand played with her breasts. He teased her until they swelled, and each pinch of her nipples sent a sizzling current of electricity to her pussy.

Until her need stretched out past endurance. She burned. When her bottom pushed back against his thick erection, he freed her lips long enough to let her whine. “Pleeease.”

His almost painful grip on her hair kept her head tilted up and back as he studied her for a long moment. Her sex throbbed in time with her pulse; her urgency grew. Then he rubbed his cheek against hers. “I believe I’d like to hear more begging first.” And he released her hair, sliding his hand to her pussy instead. He caged her there, one hand rolling her nipples as his other traced figure eights around her clit and entrance. Too light, dammit.

He changed to firm, slow strokes. Too slow, dammit. Sadistically, he drove her upward at a snail’s pace until she reached the edge, her legs trembling, her head back against his shoulder, her hands white-knuckled from trying not to shift position.

“God, please.”

His finger paused and then resumed circling her clit. She pushed her hips forward. If he’d just go over the top of it…

He released her breast and set his hard arm across her pelvis, pinning her tightly against him, permitting her bottom no movement at all. His finger circled again.

Her whole body shook. “I can’t take it anymore. Please.” She used her ultimate weapon. “Master, please, I love you…”

His low, satisfied laugh almost sent her over. “Clever little sub,” he murmured in her ear and nipped her earlobe. When he took his hand from her pussy, she groaned in frustration.

“Shhh.” He swirled his cock in her wetness and brushed the velvety head against her clit.

Oh yes. She held her breath. Please please please.

And then he drove into her with a long, heavy thrust, filling her to the point of pain.

“Aaaah.” So thick and hard and… She strangled on the next cry, panting at the incredible feeling of him, at the way her body melted under his firm hands.

Merciless thrusts bent her forward. Only her grip on the headboard and his iron-hard arm across her pelvis kept her upright. He pushed her knees farther apart and set a finger on either side of her clit so each powerful thrust tightened the skin over it and sent forks of desperate pleasure careening through her body. Her toes curled, and her fingernails squeezed the headboard, the need to come building higher.

Something was different, but she couldn’t think, her attention narrowed until she felt only his fingers stroking over her clit and the thick, hot slide of his cock. He held her right at the edge as she shook uncontrollably.

“Tradition says a man should be on his knees when he proposes,” he murmured in her ear and pushed farther inside her until she moaned.

Wait. “What?”

“I’m a traditional man, after all.” He kissed the little spot right under her ear, sending goose bumps over her skin. “I love you, kitten. Will you marry me?”