He smirks.
"You like being ordered around, don't you?"
"Only in bed," I shoot back.
If Darcy thinks he can bend me to his will like this, without manipulation through orgasm, he's got another thing coming.
"Or in the backs of limos," he adds.
I bite my lip. He has a point. The fact that I can feel the ground rolling past beneath us, and the knowledge that Darcy's driver is right on the other side of the partition is pretty fucking hot.
"Or in the backs of limos," I relent. "But that's it."
Darcy laughs. He's got the dreamiest laugh. It sounds good on his lips.
"No coat check rooms, then?"
"Not a chance," I say.
"How do you feel about kitchen counters?"
"I have a strict no kitchen counter policy, actually."
"Hmm," he muses. "I might have to see about changing that."
"You can try," I tease, laughing back at him.
"I wonder if you would respond to a woman ordering you around, the way you respond to me."
Suddenly, the laugh dies in my throat. In its place, a little moan comes out.
Darcy's lips curl into his signature wolfish grin.
"I thought so," he says. "For someone with such a dominant personality, Lizzie, you have such a submissive streak."
God. I must. Because right now, I'm working my clit beneath my fingers like I'm a mafia henchman and it's the guy who just ratted me out to the police.
"Imagine a woman," Darcy tells me. "Not Jane or Lydia...someone else. A woman you think you would look beautiful with."
I turn my gaze to his cock again, wracking my brain for what he’s after. What? A woman I would look beautiful with? Like, Darcy, babe. I’m hot. I would look beautiful with anyone. But then I see his cock…still hard. Still clenched in his fist.
He's getting off on this.
I wasn't prepared for how much I would fucking like that, but I do. I love it.
I decide to play along.
"Are you imagining her, Lizzie?"
I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
First, I imagine his hands. He has such big, sexy hands. They're manly. Made for touching. Stroking. Petting. And…mmm, spanking, too.
The last time we were together, Darcy moved my body around with those hands like I was some kind of human sex doll made for his pleasure. I'm imagining them now, stroking up and down my thighs. Teasing beneath my dress. Making me even wetter than I am now, which doesn't even seem possible.
Except that with Darcy, nothing's impossible.