He likes it when I thank him. Not that he’s ever said it, but I can tell from the way he reacts every time I say those words.

“Do you want to come, darling?” Ian’s other hand moves from my breasts to my slit. His finger carefully strokes my clit, and my knees buckle. The only reason I don’t fall down is because he’s got me impaled. “Do you want me to come with you?”

My knuckles turn white as I clench this table. “Yes, sir!”

He pulls my hair, worn down today. “Then take my cock until you can’t anymore.”

Those aren’t the last words he says to me. I’m almost embarrassed to share what else he says, because Ian is fully in “debase my sub” mode, and as much as I love it, it’s the kind of loving it that I want to keep completely to myself. If you knew what he’s started calling me these past two days, I would die. Die.

I feel like I’m dying anyway, because my body is completely accepting of Ian’s cock stroking my G-spot and his fingers rubbing my clit.

I’m not going to last ten more seconds. Orgasm has already started to spread through me, and if I were under orders to not come, I would disobey them without meaning to. I’m past my rebellious phase of being Ian Mathers’s sub. I want to please him. I want to be pleased by him. Go ahead, Ian. Fuck me until I can’t walk out of this closet without your help.

Boom. I’m done.

“Ian!” My voice is completely muffled by his hand, but the intent is still there. Everything in my pelvis strives to keep him inside me. No more thrusting. No more games. Come inside me now or suffer the consequences!

I may be a sub, but my body has other ideas, you know.

“Fuck you feel so good.” I know that grunt. As shivers wrack my body, I try to relax my core in preparation of Ian’s orgasm. “Take me, baby.”

I do.

Moans of pure ecstasy spill into his hand. I don’t see the wall in front of me anymore because there’s that hot white light before my eyes. It’s not just my climax. It’s his too, releasing inside of me, touching me in my innermost places and marking me as his for who knows… maybe the twentieth time since we started this debacle.

He’s right. It feels so good. Physically, mentally… emotionally.

“Shit.” Slowly, Ian pulls out, lowering the leg he was holding up and making sure my blouse is straightened out. I remain bent over, reveling in my good feelings and the sensation of him still inside me. Who knew that two months ago this would be one of my favorite parts of lovemaking? “I think we both needed that.”

Sure. I didn’t know until now, but sure, Ian.

He zips himself up and helps me pull down my skirt. I’m under no delusion that wearing pants is a good idea this week. It may be cold outside, but I’m happy to wear my limited selection of skirts if it means easy access for my Dom. Sheesh, what’s gotten into me? I’m really in the sub’s mindset this week. I don’t know if that pleases me or makes me worry even more.

Who the fuck am I?

Ahaha. I don’t care.

There’s a bathroom across the hall. Naturally, I make a beeline for it before we leave for lunch, because, uh, yeah.

“Katie.” Ian puts his hand around my wrist, stopping me in the middle of the hall. “No.”

Is he kidding? My panties are filling with his seed as we speak. I packed a spare in my bag for this reason, but…

“I want to make sure you know that you’re mine, lovely.” Ian stands before me, cupping my face in his hands and looking at me with languid hazel eyes. I’d be comforted… if we were home. Instead, we’re in an office building, dressed to go out for lunch and then take a tour of The Grand. “I want you to be aware of it for every moment until I tell you that you can clean up. Besides…” He pulls me into his embrace, grabbing my ass and licking my throat. “You’re not leaving this building unless you know who you are to me.”

He’s kidding, right? Not exactly the healthiest thing in the universe.

Damn if it’s not hot.

“I want you to see how far you’ve come since our first night at my place,” he whispers into my ear. “And I want to know that anyone sniffing around you would be in for a rude surprise should they get their hands on you.”

We both know that would never happen. But in fantasy land, where we’re still trapped, it’s a possibility that some other hot man would come along and sweep me off my feet, making off with me caveman style and trying to fuck me in some restaurant bathroom. Oh, yeah, baby. Then he would rip apart my underwear to find out, uh oh, already spoken for!

Oh God, I’m laughing. That is not the response Ian wanted.

“Let’s go get lunch.”

I at least convince him to let me wash my hands. And him as well, because you know, rubbing a woman’s clit before eating lunch isn’t the most hygienic thing.

Then again, neither is what’s going on between my legs.

Lunch is down the street, at a cozy – but expensive – restaurant that gets a lot of traffic at this time of day. I walk awkwardly, panicking as I feel things move and my own propriety tested. Of course, nobody around us knows what’s happened, what’s going on between my legs. Only Ian knows. Which makes him so arrogant as he curls his hand around my waist as he informs me that he will be paying for lunch.

I could say something. If I weren’t wearing this collar, I would dither between insulting him or rolling my eyes. One nice thing about the collar is that I don’t have to think about anything unless I really want to.

We sit next to each other at a curved table. Ian orders for me, which unnerves me at first, except he ordered something I would more than likely pick for myself anyway. I don’t say no to a glass of Chardonnay. I need it.

“So how is it?” he asks me over the rim of his glass.

“How’s what?”

I’m cleaning out my purse while we wait for lunch. One of those things I do when I need to kill some time, because as you ladies know, if you don’t stay on top of that shit mushrooms will start growing and you’ll never realize when you’re down a tampon at the most pivotal moment. Or both. Yuck.

Ian watches with mild interest. I pluck receipts from my wallet and bunch them up into a pile to be thrown out later.

“Anything. How’s anything?”

I glance at him, at that smug look on his face. I know what he means. “Squishy.”

That took care of that smugness right quick.

“You have such a way with words.” His chin rests on my shoulder, breath hot in my ear, not that I need the stimulation. When his hand curls against my thigh, however, I sigh. “No wonder you’re an accomplished grant writer. Maybe you should write a grant for the hotel.”

Before I can say anything, I’m cut off by an all-too-familiar voice.

“Ha! Finally caught you two in the act.”

Both Ian and I frown. Eva Warren, on the other hand, is grinning like she discovered the secret of all moon landing conspiracies.

My frown is embarrassment. Eva knows that I’m seeing Ian, but she has no idea about the BDSM aspect. Why would she? Ian and I are supposed to be Doms. No way he would submit to me, so why would I submit to him?

Ian is frowning because Eva loves making his life hell.

“Yes, you caught us.” Ian takes his hand off me and holds both in the air, as if Eva were holding a gun. “”Two consenting adults having lunch together.”

Eva looks at me, the woman with this asshole’s seed still swimming around down there. Fuuuuck me.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while, dearest Kathryn. This man taking up all your time?”

“Hardly.” I clear my throat. “I mean, you’ve been busy with school.”

“Uh huh. I’ve got another break right now, though, so I’m meeting some schoolmates here for lunch soon. Ah, but when I saw you two, I had to come by and say hello.” Eva sends a killer wink in Ian’s direction. “Treat her well, Mathers. Keep in mind that I’m the one she comes crying to when things go to shit.”