Page 76 of Over the Line
As she watched, Master Michael stroked his cock a few times, then readjusted himself, zipped his pants and re-fastened his jeans. “Your new shoes are in the bedroom closet.”
“Would you like me to model my new outfit?”
“Later.”
“Sir?”
“For now, I’d like to see you only in the shoes.”
Eagerness shot through her.
“I don’t want any article of clothing getting in the way while I flog you.”
The sexy, rough tone to his words almost made her come.
He offered his hand to help her back to her feet, and she took it.
“They’re in a box on a shelf near your bag.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Meet me back out here, wearing just the shoes. You’ve got three minutes.”
Which was barely enough time to dart up the stairs and manage everything he’d asked.
“If you keep me waiting…”
The words—threat—hung between them. He didn’t need to finish his statement. He might not spank her, but he most certainly would withhold her much-needed orgasm. “I’ll be right back, Sir.”
“You’re down to two minutes and forty-five seconds.”
Chapter Eight
Contemplating her, Michael watched Sydney hurry away.
Gregorio and Damien had both been right—the lovely Sydney Wallace was a challenge. But when he’d called the Den to get her contact information, Damien had reacted favorably, suggesting she might be worth the effort.
Both men interacted with all the club’s members, and the house’s atmosphere lent itself to intimate discussions.
Damien had said he suspected she had a tough outer shell to protect herself. Gregorio believed she acted like a brat so that she could collect more spankings without ever opening herself up emotionally. Not that he blamed her. After all, he had been the one to find her a jeweler to cut off her collar. Gregorio had confirmed Damien’s hunch. Sydney’s reputation was a carefully constructed protective veneer.
Since she’d left, Michael had spent a lot of time thinking about her and considering the best way to approach and ensnare her. He’d ordered the flogger and new shoes for her. That may not have been his best idea. The very thought of seeing her in them constantly diverted blood from his brain.
He’d contacted her while she was traveling, but only a few times. Though he’d intended to pique her interest, he hadn’t wanted her to feel cornered and skitter away.
He’d made plenty of mistakes in his marriage regarding his expectations. His work since, with horses, had taught him a few things about patience. Even when he wanted to rush things—especially then—he forced himself to take a mental step back.
The day his divorce had become final, he’d grabbed a pricy bottle of Bonds whiskey from the liquor cabinet. As he’d downed his third shot, he’d vowed never again to fall deeply in love without taking his time, getting to know someone on every level.
And yet that would have been so easy with the delectable and determined Sydney.
He’d never connected sexually with a woman the way he did her. She wanted him to cover her skin with leather kisses and devour her in bed.
The trouble was, she didn’t want anything more.
Michael was a man of the land, entrusted by his ancestors to protect and care for it. And she was a woman of the world, living for adventure.
And eventually, she’d move on to a new Dom, or someone better for her—a Top.