Page 49 of On His Terms
Where she’d be expected to wear something revealing and no undergarments? “Is there anything specific I should wear?”
“Since I’ll expect you to remove your clothing the moment the door closes behind you, it doesn’t matter.”
“But what about dinner?”
“I want you to be comfortable. Jeans are fine. We’re not going anywhere fancy.”
Really?
When she didn’t respond right away, he asked, “Questions?”
“Only about what happens once I arrive. I presume you’ll open the door and then I’ll undress?” She started to pace, a habit she’d picked up since she’d started seeing him.
“Let yourself in, strip, then wait near the fireplace. I trust that you will be in the correct position at six o’clock precisely.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Anything less than perfection will require chastisement.”
She shuddered.
“Before you go, have you been masturbating?”
“You forbade it.”
“Answer the question.”
“I wanted to, but no. I didn’t, Sir.” She exhaled. “I hate the rule. Sometimes it’s the only way I can get to sleep.” And not being able to use the showerhead between her legs seemed like a constant punishment.
“You’re going to continue to do as I say, though, aren’t you, girl? Because you like being my good pet.”
God help her. She squeezed her eyes shut. Every word he said was true.
“Now get on with your practice. And deal with the fact that I intend to push you further than you’ve ever been.”
Her insides curled into a knot of dread…and sexual anticipation.
Then he hung up, once more ending the call on a cryptic note.
Damn you.
He tilted her world off its axis and expected her to go on as if nothing had happened?
Later that night, at home in bed, she couldn’t get comfortable, and she was convinced he’d intended that for her.
Since he’d denied it, need crawled through her. Right now, she knew even the gentlest of touches against her clit would get her off. She could feel her pulse there, demanding. Confounding man.
She was aware of the ache in her pussy that a simple touch would vanquish. Her breasts felt full, and she desperately wanted to play with her nipples.
She thumped her pillow into a different shape, and that didn’t help, either.
Finally, half an hour later, in abject frustration, she climbed out of bed and went through her paces again, while wearing her pajamas. If she took off her clothes, she would be tempted to touch herself.
The act of thinking of Master Alexander, of making him proud of her, helped calm her.
As always, sleep eluded her.
She turned on her side and shoved both hands beneath her head. She forced herself not to think about her upcoming time with Master Alexander, and instead, she counted sheep, something she hadn’t done since she was a child.