1. The Virtue of Patience
She taps her fingers against the armrest of her command chair, trying hard to concentrate on the task at hand, but her thoughts are insistently drifting to more pressing matters.
Like the man by her side who, after everything, wants to date her.
Really. Date her.
What kind of a sick fuck is he?
But he made it absolutely clear. He would not take her to bed again until an appropriate time had passed and he felt he knew her better. Saying they had climbed this tree backward.
Oh, please. How could anyone be so prim and proper, so old-fashioned, in this century?
He didn't even bother to specify those parameters. What exactly did he think this decent courtship should include? How long would be enough to count as a sufficient dating period? What precisely did …show more content…
He wasn't going to continue doing those things to her.
But then he asked more. Why did she like the spanking and the choking, the biting and being held down? How did it make her feel? What did it mean to her? What else did she want? Was there something she wouldn't do?
His questions were precise, revealing what she'd already suspected, that he was well read into the subject, having dedicated a length of time to master the art.
It seemed like he genuinely wanted to know and his insistent curiosity made her squirm.
None of the negotiations in her previous relationships had ever been this explicit. And she wasn't even sure where he was heading with his inquiries.
Wavering whether she should, she finally asked if there was anything about it that he liked, anything at all he found arousing.
The way he stopped and stared at her, his eyes turning dark and dangerous, took her breath away.
Had she been so caught up in her own realm not to notice that it had been a kick for him as well?
He swallowed and took a few steps further away from her before he began.
The memories seemed to be burned into his mind as he poured them out, recalling with ease specific moments and scenes in
She taps her fingers against the armrest of her command chair, trying hard to concentrate on the task at hand, but her thoughts are insistently drifting to more pressing matters.
Like the man by her side who, after everything, wants to date her.
Really. Date her.
What kind of a sick fuck is he?
But he made it absolutely clear. He would not take her to bed again until an appropriate time had passed and he felt he knew her better. Saying they had climbed this tree backward.
Oh, please. How could anyone be so prim and proper, so old-fashioned, in this century?
He didn't even bother to specify those parameters. What exactly did he think this decent courtship should include? How long would be enough to count as a sufficient dating period? What precisely did …show more content…
He wasn't going to continue doing those things to her.
But then he asked more. Why did she like the spanking and the choking, the biting and being held down? How did it make her feel? What did it mean to her? What else did she want? Was there something she wouldn't do?
His questions were precise, revealing what she'd already suspected, that he was well read into the subject, having dedicated a length of time to master the art.
It seemed like he genuinely wanted to know and his insistent curiosity made her squirm.
None of the negotiations in her previous relationships had ever been this explicit. And she wasn't even sure where he was heading with his inquiries.
Wavering whether she should, she finally asked if there was anything about it that he liked, anything at all he found arousing.
The way he stopped and stared at her, his eyes turning dark and dangerous, took her breath away.
Had she been so caught up in her own realm not to notice that it had been a kick for him as well?
He swallowed and took a few steps further away from her before he began.
The memories seemed to be burned into his mind as he poured them out, recalling with ease specific moments and scenes in