Finally he said, “Summer Grace, this is not the time to get bratty with me. And that’s the last warning you’re going to get.”

“I . . . I’m a little disoriented tonight, to be perfectly honest.”

“We don’t need to have any discussion right now. Simply do as you’re told.”

His stern tone rocked her. And made her entire body clench with need. Yearning.

So this is what it’s like to be a true submissive, and not just a bottom.

She felt a little shocked that she wanted this—the real D/s dynamic and not just sensation and some role-play. A little mad at herself. At Jamie.

“Fine,” she said, yanking her lace thong down and handing it to him.

He took it and put her clothes in the toy bag. When he turned back to her, his eyes were green fire. Green ice. Something was going on with him tonight. And she liked it.

He approached her slowly, and she felt the moment as if it were happening in slow motion. He grabbed her, swinging her around and forcing one arm behind her back, gripping her wrist hard enough to hurt. His other arm went around her throat, and God, she loved when he used breath play on her—constricting her air just enough for her to feel his command, for her to give him her trust completely. Her nipples went hard and her pussy clenched again, desire lancing through her. Fear made her shiver. And beneath it all was that little bit of anger still, preventing her from giving in completely.

Jamie leaned in, his tone low. “Stop struggling, Summer Grace. I understand what you’re going through—a kind of quiet rebellion. You’re not used to this—me refraining from tempering my dominance with gentleness. But you know it’s there if you truly need it. Trust in me that I will give you what you need. But tonight is also about what I need. And I need you to serve my desires. Do you understand that I won’t harm you, no matter how rough the play gets?”

He loosened his hold on her throat and she pulled in a gasping breath. “Of course, Jamie. I wouldn’t be here with you otherwise. And . . .” The words came out in a whisper. “I want to serve your desires. I want to. And maybe I even need to.”

“Ah, there’s my good girl.”

Those words, his approval, melted away the last of her anger. Melted her all over. Her mind was emptying out, her head starting to buzz. And he hadn’t really done anything yet. She realized in some distant way that this was where the power was in the D/s roles. It wasn’t in the pain play, although more would manifest once that began. She could hardly wait.

He pressed her back a few steps, then a few more until her back came into contact with the web of chains. They were cool against her bare skin, and she shivered.

“Cold, sweetheart? I’ll warm you up, baby.”

With a hand on her throat, his fingers pressing, he kissed her hard. His mouth was so lush and sweet—he tasted like mint and pure Jamie. Her Jamie. Like sex and familiarity.

He pulled back. “Warmer?” he asked.

“A little.”

He smiled down at her, his dimples flashing, and for one moment he looked like her sweet Jamie again. Then his grip on her throat tightened and he crushed her lips with his, his big body pressing her hard against the chains, until they dug into her flesh a bit. But she was nearly swooning at the feel of him—his tall, muscled frame, the ridge of his arousal against her belly. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue slid into hers, exploring. Demanding. She could barely breathe—literally, as his big hand tightened on her throat. When she gasped he released her and she sank into him, her legs weak.

“You like it when I choke you.”

“Yes.”

“So do I.”

“God, Jamie—”

“Shh. Quiet now. You’ll talk only when I ask you a question, or if you need to safeword. I’m going to cuff you to the chains. Can you stand by yourself?”

“Yes, Jamie.”

He made sure she was steady on her feet before stepping back to get the padded leather cuffs. He gave a nod of his chin and she held her wrists out for him. He fastened the cuffs, then clipped them with a pair of carabiners to the big web so that her arms were spread wide. Then he pulled another pair of larger cuffs from his back pocket and knelt to shackle her ankles to the web, as well. She felt exposed, beautifully wanton in her pretty high-heeled shoes and nothing else but her ravenous desire.

He rose to his feet and brushed a quick kiss across her mouth, then nibbled on her lower lip. “Beautiful girl,” he said before stepping back, and she watched as he looped the small leather handles of three canes onto a hook on his belt.

She closed her eyes and waited.

Jamie began to stroke her skin—her arms, her sides, then her breasts. She arched into his hands as much as she was able to, but she was bound tightly. Her nipples were so hard they hurt, and when he stroked them with his thumbs she moaned quietly. She was soaked already—her clit, the lips of her sex, tight and swollen with need. He kept stroking the two hard peaks, then pinched them lightly. When he bent to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, she groaned, pulling against her bonds.

“Oh, you like that, baby. But I think you’ll like this even better.”

He straightened up, looking down at her with a half-smile on his handsome face as he slipped a hand behind her neck and began to tap her thigh with one of the smaller canes. It didn’t hurt at first, and she understood he was establishing a rhythm. The tapping became harder, stinging her skin as she sank into the quick cadence of it. It felt good, her body, her brain, converting the small pain into pleasure that shimmered through her system. Then there was one sharp smack and she yelped. He stopped. Looked into her eyes.

“Are we still green?”

“Yes. We’re green.” She wanted more. Wanted it harder.

He started once more, harder this time, and pleasure swarmed her body in a warm tide. Her head was sinking into the rhythm as much as her body was. Then he hit her with one vicious smack across the front of both thighs and she cried out.

“Oh!”

He smoothed a hand over the hurting places and the pain became pleasure. Desire. The need for more.

More, more, more . . .

“Here we go now, sweetheart,” he whispered in warning. It was soothing and threatening at the same time. She loved it.

He hit one thigh with the cane, a sharp snap of the wood, and the pain reverberated through her system, followed by an enormous release of the lovely brain chemicals that helped her to handle it, to float in subspace. He hit her again, a quick volley of smacks over the front and sides of her thighs, and she gasped and groaned, but he didn’t stop to let her ride out the pain from each strike. Just when she thought she’d have to call yellow, he pressed a hand between her spread legs and began to massage her, rubbing her hard clit, two fingers thrusting inside her. The caning went on, and at one point she thought he switched to a heavier implement. The pain was more intense, but it only caused more of the lovely endorphins to be released in her brain, until she was nothing more than a being of pure sensation. There was only one thought in her head, over and over.

Love him. Love him. Love him.

*   *   *

JAMIE FELT HER soft, hot inner muscles squeezing his fingers, felt how wet she was, swollen with desire that echoed with each stroke of the Lucite cane. He wasn’t even sure she was aware that he was using it on her—this heavy cane with the evil, sharp-edged twists in the Lucite, making it an incredibly high-pain toy. No, she was high as a kite on sensation. He could see it in the way her tightly bound body bowed a little with each hard stroke. In how gorgeously wet she was. In the heavy cadence of her breath. She was moaning, but he recognized it more as low sounds of pleasure than pain.