“Normally, I’d give you a checklist to fill out, but this wasn’t exactly planned.”

“You don’t walk around with hard copies in your pocket? That’s poor planning.” She tsked and shook her head at him. “What happens when you have hordes of kinky girls chasing you and you have no checklists?”

“You have a very pretty mouth.”

Everly got flustered again, and found herself sitting still and blinking at him.

While he had her mentally off balance, he kissed her. Unlike most guys she’d played with over the years, he was in no hurry. He kissed her like kissing was his entire goal for the day, like it was better than beating her or fucking her. Like they were in high school and kissing was her limit.

She kept waiting for something to happen, but until she relaxed and reciprocated, and started getting both turned on and starry-eyed, he didn’t go any further. Max was going to call back and her biggest injury would be chapped lips.

Eventually, he pulled away. “I’ve been thinking about that since the club.”

“Kissing me?”

He smiled, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. How could such a big brute of a man be so sexy?

A big hand slid into her hair, and he kissed her again, but this time he took control of her mouth, kissing her with more passion. Her inner high school girl started longing for backseats and lost underwear.

As if on cue, his free hand snuck up the front of her sweater. He cupped one of her breasts and made a sound like he was pleased. His thumb ran over her nipple, teasing, circling. Vanilla shouldn’t be turning her on so much. Disgusted with herself, she squirmed in his lap.

“I don’t like vanilla,” she murmured.

“Mmmhmm. You don’t not like it.” He kissed her again, proving she was a liar. “Rushing things is fun sometimes, but we have no reason to rush today. Unless you have somewhere to be?”

“No, Sir.”

Ambrose coaxed her up and led her to a bare wall, then stripped her clothes off with the exception of her bra and panties, which matched. For a moment, her coordinated undergarments made her feel like she had her shit together. When she’d dressed this morning, this hadn’t been on the agenda.

If he wasn’t into curvy girls, he could make a living acting on Broadway. He turned her toward the wall.

“Put your palms flat against the wall.”

She thought of making a joke, but she didn’t want to slow him down. He ran his hands over her, inspecting, claiming. He seemed to be cataloguing her reactions—what turned her on, where she was ticklish—and was using her weaknesses against her. Without meaning to, she arched her back and thrust her ass out at him.

“That’s a good girl.” His hands skimmed over her backside. “Put an ass like yours in a commercial, and they could sell a man anything.”

Apparently he’d sniffed too much glue as a child, but she wasn’t about to hold that against him.

He unhooked her bra and slid it down her arms, then laid it aside when she pulled her hands out of the straps. From behind, he let his hands glide upward until he had cupped her breasts. His lips grazed the side of her neck just as his fingers coaxed her nipples into points, and he groaned in her ear.

Her breath came in short staccato bursts, and for one embarrassing moment she thought she was going to come. Sure it had been a while, but her reactions to him were ridiculous. He handled her body as though he not only owned her, but thoroughly enjoyed owning her. Her body agreed wholeheartedly.

How was Ambrose single?

She widened her stance, hoping he’d take the bait. The way he toyed around the perimeters of her underwear, making the waist and leg bands the limits of where he’d let his fingers stray, was making her crazy.

“What’s wrong, Everly? You seem to be having a problem. Is there anything I can help with?” His fingers crept under her waistband but didn’t drift lower.

Abruptly, she stood on her toes, and his unsuspecting hand ended up halfway down her panties.

“Hey, are you trying to rush me?” Rather than pull his hand back, he slipped his hand between her legs and found her clit. She squealed and rose higher on her toes.

“I didn’t mean to . . . I . . .”

He tugged on it painfully.

“Oh fuck.”

“Should you rush me?”

“Fuck no, Sir. Please let go?” Everly’s body shuddered, wanting more, but she was afraid she’d scream.

The pressure eased, but he grabbed her by the pussy and forced her ass back against him.

He ground against her. “I want to play with you, but my cock is in a big rush to get inside you. Should I tell it to be patient?”

“No. It should be impatient. I’m feeling impatient, too, so get on with it.”

Ambrose moved away from her, shuffling the things on the coffee table, then he came back. She tried to look over her shoulder, but he smacked her ass.

“Eyes on the wall.” His voice was low. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” He fiddled with her nipple and attached a clamp to it.

“Ow!” She tried to avoid him, but he got its twin on her other nipple without much work. The firm pressure sent pain through them and into her pussy. She hissed, but he tugged on the chain that connected the clamps as though her discomfort made things better for him.

Next, he shoved a small vibe into her panties, and nestled it against her clit.

“Don’t you dare fucking come.”

Shit. How was she going to manage that with the vibe there and his words echoing in her head?

He smacked her ass, where she was sure there were already handprints, and she could feel her brain melting and leaking out her ears. The vibe buzzed away, and she bit her lip, trying to distract herself from the fact that he was alternating between spanking her and jamming the vibe against her sensitive bud.

Her breathing was loud in her ears, and she trembled, trying hard to stay in control. “I’m going to come, Sir. I can’t stop.”

“If you come, I’m going to hurt you.”

“Bad?”

“Bad.”

Fuck, like that threat was going to help?

“Sir, may I come?” She was panting, straining to control her impending orgasm. Why did Doms think she could wait?

“No.” His mouth growled next to her ear, and her body took that as a cue to shudder violently. “Are you going to be a bad girl?”

“Very bad,” she whimpered.

He pulled the vibe out of her panties and shut it off.

“Fuck.”

He chuckled, but Everly didn’t think he was very funny right then. “I don’t understand why you’re upset. I’m being helpful.”

Screw this. She pulled one of her hands from the wall and pressed her fingers between her legs. Two seconds and . . .

Ambrose yanked her hand away from her pussy. Then stood her upright and spun her around. “Hold your hands out like this.” He showed her to leave them out, palms up.

“What? Why?”

He stripped off his shirt and she almost drooled on herself. Next, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops. Aw, shit.

“No touching yourself without my permission.” He gave both of her palms two belt strokes.

Fuck, that smarted! And turned her on. It hardly seemed fair, since she hadn’t used her left hand to touch herself.

“Do you understand me, young lady?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Without warning, he grabbed the nipple clamp chain and yanked. The clamps popped off simultaneously, and she screeched.

“Are you sorry now?”

She sniffled. “Yes, Sir.”

He tilted his chin up and gazed down at her sternly, reminding her of a teacher chastising his pupil.

“If that’s what I get for sassing you, I’d hate to see what I’d get if I was late for class.”

“Late for class?”

“Well, yes. I’ve never seen someone get their hands strapped except in schoolgirl fetish porn.”

“Shh . . . it’s too soon for you to know my secrets.” His mouth twisted in amusement and self-deprecation.

She covered her nipples with her stinging hands. “I’m sorry I was late for class, Professor. How can I ever make it up to you?”