Chapter 17

"I think I should go and clean the guns," Hans muttered. He set the empty plate down, got up from his chair, and took the two gun cases into the other room. Royce still hadn't taken his eyes off Kenzie, but he reached for a bottle of vodka and poured her a small shot.

"Drink this." He held it out and she downed it, wincing at the burn.

"Thanks, I needed that," she said, still unable to meet his gaze.

"Little Mac, look at me." He caught her chin to turn her head his way. She stared up at him, seeing those burning brown eyes, the hint of stubble that was like a sexy shadow on his jaw.

"You can do this. It's just like in classI give you an order and you obey, no questions, no sass. The only difference is that you'll be in revealing clothes, probably cuffed, collared, and"

"And?" Kenzie had a sense she knew what was coming.

"And I might have to be intimate with you. Probably not full-on sex, but there might be something else required to prove our 'legitimacy' if it comes to that."

Something else? Like what? Her mind filled with an electric and erotic array of images of her on her knees, sucking on his cock, or him pleasing her with his mouth, using his hands on her, stroking, grinding, penetrating. There was an entire world of dark, erotic fantasies contained in those two simple wordssomething else.

"I wouldn't ask this of you, Little Mac, but" His expression became even more sober. "You respond to that life. There's no point in denying it. I've seen it firsthand. You respond to that edge, that raw carnality. I think you could make the most exquisite sub if you were with a Dom you trusted."

Kenzie saw his eyes track her movements with an almost predatory fixation.

"What What would I have to do? I've never really done anything likewhat you do."

Royce stroked her chin, then his thumb slid up to her mouth, and he brushed the pad over her bottom lip.

"My subs call me sir. They ask no questions, but if you have one, you ask permission to speak, and I may deny or approve that request. I prefer my subs to sit at my feet or on my lap when I'm with other Doms."

Kenzie couldn't get the image out of her mind. Her kneeling at his feet, his hands in her hair, stroking her like a pet. It didn't seem all that degrading. Rather, it made her feel hot.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly.

"I" Suddenly tongue-tied, she felt unable to confess her fantasies.

"You can't be shy. Not with me. It's part of the rules, Little Mac. A question is asked, and you must answer." He moved his hand to the back of her neck, holding her still as he gazed deep into her eyes. Her breath caught as he ran his eyes slowly over her body. "Fuck, I can't tell you how much I want this. How I want you to call me sir and be at my mercy." He seemed to be talking more to himself than anyone else.

"Dr. Devereaux" She suddenly needed to put a barrier between them, even a small one.

"Sir," he corrected. "You'd better practice now."

"Sir," she amended, her heart skittering in her chest.

"You want to start small? Something you can handle?" he asked. She knew her body betrayed her when she nodded. His mouth kicked up in a grin.

"Then for the next few minutes, you submit to me with no resistance, or I deliver punishment like I did at the billiard table. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. If I scare you, but you think you can continue, remember to say yellow. Red means no. It's absolute and final, so you'd better mean it."

She remembered the rules.

"Got itsir," she said.

He chuckled. "You don't have to say it every time, just when you address me with a question. You will know if you made a mistake." He let go of her neck and reached for her long braid, tugging gently on it. "Your first commandundo the braid. Thread your fingers through the strands. Do it slow."

He watched her, his hungry gaze making her body hum as she slipped the hair from the tie in her braid and began to undo the plait. Then she combed her fingers through the wet strands.

"In a D/s relationship, the partners care for each other always. That means you rely on me for food, for clothes, even to bathe if I wish, while the game is played." He retrieved a bowl of fruit that had come with the meal. He picked up a blueberry and held it to her lips. She knew instinctively what he wanted. She opened her mouth, and he slipped the berry inside. The sweet taste of it exploded on her tongue, and she couldn't resist sighing. He shifted on the couch as she made that single sound.

"Thank me when I give you food."

"Thank you, sir," she whispered, captivated by the intensity of his stare.

"Good," he praised, his voice silken. "Now straddle my lap and share the sweet taste of the blueberry with me."

She slid onto the couch, straddling him. Her knees bumped the back of the couch, and her pelvis pressed against his. She couldn't believe she was on Royce's lap, taking orders from him, but then, after she'd kissed him in the pool all of this seemed inevitable. She and Royce were like two neutron stars finally colliding after millennia of spinning around one another's orbits. The explosion, when it finally happened, would either destroy them both or turn everything into silver and gold.

"Share with me," he said in a low gruff voice, like a wolf close to biting her. "Kill me with your sweetness, Little Mac."

With a sudden sense of fear that she would lose out on even one minute of kissing him, she lowered her head to his. Her perilous attraction to him only pushed her onward.

These violent delights have violent ends. Isn't that how Romeo and Juliet goes?