“Put your palms flat on the desk.”
She complied, arching her back to make her bottom stick out more. Such a luscious ass. His dick had almost gone off just seeing her in her underwear at the lake.
“As long as you don’t harm me, we can explore what you’re interested in.”
“Harm?”
“Hurting me is okay. Permanent damage is not.”
Maiming people wasn’t what he was into anyway. “You like pain?”
“I like being controlled.”
“So if you disobey me, how am I supposed to punish you?” he asked, his mind trying to process this idea that she might actually like almost everything he wanted to do to her.
She gave him an enigmatic smile. “That’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself. I’m a submissive, not an idiot, Mister Leduc.”
He barked a laugh, surprising himself as much as Minnow.
“You’re a ballsy little thing.”
“Nope. No balls, Mister Leduc. Not even in a jar on my nightstand.”
The feeling – the need to control this girl and bend her to his will – fought its way to the surface.
This was the thing he was never supposed to let himself do. The girl was daring him to set his urges free.
He reached for his belt. He shouldn’t let himself, but his desire for her was tangled with his desire to control her and hurt her. Wasn’t this how serial killers thought? What if he couldn’t stop? How was doing this acceptable?
“It’s okay. I have a safeword,” she said quietly.
“It’s not okay.” He forced his hand away from his belt buckle. “This isn’t normal.”
“Normal is boring, Mister Leduc,” she replied, arching her back. “You don’t seem like a man who’s content with his halfhearted life.”
She was daring him to take her in hand, to dominate her, and damn, did he want to.
Fuck it.
He unbuckled his belt, every nerve in his body hyperaware of her, of each twitch of muscle in his hands, of the crackle of the fire in the hearth. He tugged the buckle, and as he pulled the leather free of his belt loops, the girl sighed, closing her eyes and dropping her forehead to the desk.
“Don’t fucking move,” he reminded her, voice harsher than he’d intended.
“Oh, god.”
His cock pulsed, and he readjusted himself.
Sick. He was a sick man, no matter what the girl thought.
The leather slid through his hands, worn, supple. He choked up on the belt until it was a length he felt he could control. He swung it experimentally, not wanting to scare her. Would she compare him to the men who’d done this to her before? The others must have known what they were doing. His lack of proficiency made him self-conscious.
Her ass swayed slightly, as though she was trying to lure him closer.
The dreamlike state stripped away, and his heart thundered in response to what he was about to do. Sharpening focus, he brought the belt down on her gorgeous ass with a sharp crack.
She squealed, her ass jiggling for an enticing moment before she clenched it and went up on her toes. He gave her a moment to calm down and did it again.
Three, four, five...