Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
He remained silent, waiting for her answer.
“I…” Why was this so difficult with him? Willow had negotiated with a dozen different Doms. She didn’t have to answer. Yet she wanted to. “Typically in the main area. I like the Saint Andrew’s cross or a spanking bench.”
“Which is your preference?”
“The Saint Andrew’s cross. It’s”—emotionally safer—“less personal, I suppose.”
“I’m guessing you like a flogging, then?”
“Actually…”
He leaned toward her, ensnaring her in his massive focus. For that moment, no one existed but her. And that gave her the courage she needed. “I haven’t had a lot of bare-bottom spankings.” Her body temperature increased, and she knew scarlet had flooded her cheeks.
“You’d like one?”
“From you? No! I wasn’t asking.”
He grinned, and his features transformed. For a moment, he looked less hostile, more human. Inviting and approachable. Feminine instinct whispered that she needed to be extra cautious. A charming Jaxon Mills might prove devastating.
“Over the knee? Or tied to a spanking bench?”
Either. Both. What the hell was wrong with her?
“When you make an arrangement with a Dom, what do you tell him?”
She crossed her legs and took the opportunity to tighten her pelvic muscles. Even though she didn’t want to be, Willow was horny for this overbearing man.
“I’m waiting.”
“Of course, I let him know that my safe word is red, like the club’s. And I use yellow for slow. And absolutely no physical penetration.”
“That includes no ass play?”
She shook her head so fast that her hair swung around her face. “Not ever.”
“Is your hypothetical Dom allowed to touch your clit?”
His question sucked the air from her lungs. Her father’s friend was asking this? And worse, she was going to answer. “I’ve never said yes to that before.”
“But you’d be open to it?”
Am I? She glanced at his ridiculously big hand. His finger would be rough against her skin. She tried to speak, but no words emerged.
“Would he be allowed to wedge your panties between your legs and use the fabric to get you off?”
She grabbed her drink and gulped down enough that she coughed.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” A wry laugh wrapped around his words.
Willow slammed her glass back onto the napkin much harder than she’d intended to.
“Do you like to orgasm during a scene? Or do you just like to get lost?”
“Lost,” she replied. “I don’t think I’m able to.”
He leaned forward. “Can you clarify what you mean?”
What was it about him that invited her to reveal more than she wanted to? With other Doms, she’d drawn the line at penetration, and they’d agreed. No one had asked for more information. “Well, I mean… I never have. Orgasmed at a club.”
“Has anyone else used sensation play with you?”
Her nerves were shattered. Even though she didn’t intend to, she plucked the straw from the glass just so she had something to toy with. “No.”
“Is it something you want to try?”
“Maybe. I mean, we’re talking hypothetically, right? It would depend on a few things, such as whether the right Dom asked.” She was leading a dangerous dance. Flirting, considering. Despite the warnings bouncing around inside her head, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to make a mistake with him.
“What toys do you like?”
“Nothing too intense. Paddles are okay. Hairbrushes, wooden spoons.” With other Doms, they were inanimate objects, but when she spoke with him, she couldn’t help but imagine him holding the implements. Round and round, she twisted the straw.
“A devil’s tail?”
“I haven’t tried one.”
“You might like it. A tiny bite, maybe a bit more. Can be used with extreme precision and in tight, even intimate places. The red lines it leaves behind are rather appealing.”
“But…”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I like the way those implements cover a wider area. There’s a”—she sought out a description that made sense, something that was complicated since she hadn’t thought it through herself—“I guess an oomph factor. The impact forces my body forward. It’s an instinctive reaction. And the way it hurts, and the marks…” Thinking about it left her needy. She had to scene tonight. Had to.
He nodded slowly, taking in her words. “Since you’ve mentioned the Saint Andrew’s cross, I’m also assuming you’re familiar with a flogger.”
“Yes. But heavier ones. The way the falls wrap around my sides…they cover so much area, you know. So many impact points, things happening all at the same time. It’s a lot to take in. Too much, even.”
“You like that.”
“Yeah.” She breathed out, wondering if he sensed her dreaminess.
“Anything else you want me to know?”
Dare she? “My favorite is a—”she cleared her throat—“an open hand.” His. Jaxon Mills was a commanding presence. At six-two, maybe six-three, he was taller than most men she knew. No doubt, he was capable of delivering what she wanted, maybe better than anyone else had. The question was, would he?
“So it’s the impact? Maybe the sound?”
She met his gaze. He understood her. “And the intimacy. There’s nothing between me and my Dom.”