His by Carolyn Faulkner (recommended reading txt) 📕

of the stuff, although he was rapidly broadening her horizons in that area. She knew that it was an order, and she obeyed it. Once he'd seen that her glass was empty, after nearly an hour of idle but comfortable conversation, he'd instructed her very concisely to stand on the star that was marked on the oriental carpet to the right of her chair.

With the food to offset it, her mind was only slightly befuddled by the alcohol, and she wondered how she'd missed what was obviously a gold sticker that marked a place that, once she stood on it, she realized had been quite carefully placed such that she was well away from every piece of furniture. She stood, alone, near the wide open double doors that lead to the front door just beyond.

He walked around her, removing the anchors of her carefully coiffed hair, so that the wild fall of it hung to the middle of her back, murmuring the occasional order as casually as if he was making a grocery list. "Never wear your hair up when we're private again... stand up straighter. Look up, bella, look up." He touched her occasionally, here or there, but not in any sexual way - yet. Instead, Raina remembered feeling as if she was some sort of posable doll.

But then he did what she'd been secretly dreading - and secretly wanting - since they'd agreed that tonight would begin her servitude to him. And, yes, it had been an agreement. Although he'd warned her that she would be expected to submit to him in all things that didn't have to do with work, he would never have chosen a woman who didn't have a brain, and who couldn't make her own decisions. He wanted her to walk into this situation fully informed about what would be expected of her, and he'd told her he might consult her about the decisions he made for her, although the final say would ultimately always be his.

He began to remove her clothing, practically stitch by stitch. As she'd already begun to learn, there was nothing in this world short of a stock market crash that could make him move any more quickly than he wanted to. And when it came to her, it seemed that his normal slow, deliberate movements became even more so. She had never felt more vulnerable - then - than she did at that moment, even though the first things he removed were all of her accessories and jewelry. She still hadn't had a bit more flesh exposed than she had when she entered the house several hours earlier.

But she knew that was coming, as sure as she knew that just the thought of it had the blood pumping to areas that hadn't had felt any action in quite some time, sacrificed, as they had been, in favor of making money. She felt woozy from it, and it wasn't just the alcohol. Every inch of her flesh was sensitized, waiting for its unveiling, most especially the place between her legs. It was literally dripping, and he had yet to really touch her.

He met her eyes as his hands went to the simple white blouse she was wearing and began to unbutton it efficiently, his knuckles brushing the bare sides of her breasts. "It's a good thing you obeyed me about the bra, or you would have been sitting very gingerly at dinner," he threw out casually as he slid the shirt down her arms.

Raina tried to cringe, tried to make herself smaller so that somehow, absurdly, he wouldn't notice her, but he lifted her chin and forced her to straighten and then some. "Chin up. Always. Lace your fingers behind your head." Raina was mortified at the way that position forced her breasts to jut out, as if seeking his attentions.

She was able to retain the stance he'd put her in when he took off her pants, but once he'd had her serviceable white bikini panties to her ankles, when his mouth was inches from a place that hadn't been touched in years, Raina automatically brought her hands down to cover her mons and her breasts.

Somehow she'd expected a sudden, strict burst of discipline from him, but that was before she knew him well enough. Her Master was nothing if not deliberate. "I had hoped the wine would keep you from earning a punishment this evening. I hadn't intended on doing anything but testing your limits a little," he drawled with what sounded like sincere sympathy. "You've already earned yourself one by breaking position. I suggest you get your hands back to where they're supposed to be before you make it even worse on yourself."

She did so, however tentatively, her mind focusing on his wording. "Make it even worse on yourself". She had gotten herself into trouble. Nothing he had done - so far - involved an ounce of pain, and apparently nothing he had been planning on, either. She'd done it to herself.

A shiver ran through her body, making her nipples tighten painfully as he finished removing her panties, his long, thick fingers wrapping around each delicate ankle, lifting it out of the fabric, then setting it down much further away from its companion than it had been before, opening that sopping wet area between her legs by default.

He still squatted in front of her, although he'd sat back some. Raina could barely get her eyes to focus on him, but she did. His were closed, and he was breathing deeply. She made sure she raised her eyes before his opened.

"You're excited, Raina. Aren't you?" he asked, rising to stand in front of her.

Raina kept her eyes staring straight ahead, whispering, "Yes, Sir."

"Louder, Raina. Always softly, but not hiding the answer."

She repeated herself with more confidence this time.

"Very good." He reached out, then, and cupped her breasts with his hands, feeling those hard tips against his palms, hefting the weight of them, watching her closely for any adverse reaction.