Then he waltzed back into the conference room, and his front side was equal to his backside. Ripped arms—biceps, triceps, forearms—almost drew her attention away from the muscled slabs of his chest. He had a hairy chest, but the hair was pale blond and looked as soft as down. Did he showcase a six-pack? No. The man had an eight-pack. Eight little pillows of hard flesh she was dying to put her lips on. His baggy athletic shorts camouflaged his groin and his quadriceps, but she remembered from past peeks that he had those deep V cuts of chiseled muscles.
His eyes narrowed when he realized she was gawking at him. “We’re out of ice, so whoever was on office-supply stocking detail dropped the ball.”
“I’m fine, Knox, really.”
He ripped open a disinfectant pad, clasped her wrist in his hand, and gently rubbed over the surface. It stung, but not terribly. “Did you have fun at the club last night?”
“I had a really great drink.”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “Happy you liked it.” After he finished with her hand, he opened another wipe and swiped it across the scrape on her shin. “Did you enjoy the back rooms and private rooms?” His voice was tight.
“Knox. Look at me.”
He glanced up.
“After you told me you were confused and we needed to talk, I was done for the night. I went home. Alone.”
He scooted in closer. Then he pressed a gentle kiss to the bump on her forehead. “I’m glad.” And another one, followed by a soft whisper of breath. “So, so glad.”
That sweetness might just be her undoing.
“I’m a thirty-six-year-old man, and I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Kiss you, to start.”
Shiori tipped her head back. “So kiss me.”
His mouth landed on hers in a hard kiss, no holding back. He unleashed his male heat and hunger, his tongue searching for hers to twine and retreat. He changed the angle of his head and the tenor of the kiss. Turning it into pure seduction.
And she felt his need, his effort to turn this into something he understood.
While he was trying to break down her resistance, she set her hands on his chest and touched him just for the pure joy of it.
Eventually the kiss waned, and he rested his forehead against hers. “So . . . we’ve got that going for us.”
She laughed.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” he said again. “I’d ask you to tell me what I should do, but that’s the whole issue—my issue—isn’t it?”
“Knox.”
“Please.” His lips skimmed her temple and her cheek before stopping at her ear. “Tell me what to do.”
She closed her eyes, wanting to believe he’d accepted what he was, but how could he when he’d never experienced submission? She brought her hands up to his neck. “Give me one night with you.”
He said, “Yes,” without hesitation. “As long as it’s tonight.”
“Why tonight?”
“Because this has been weighing on me for the past week. I’ve been waiting and wondering if I had the guts to follow through with it. If I don’t do it now, I may never find the guts to try it again.”
“What are you afraid of?”
He lifted his head, and those hooded blue eyes bored into her. “That you might be right.”
Shiori kissed him then. Holding him in place with her right hand around the base of his throat. Exploring his mouth with licks and nips and bites. Absorbing his stillness as she showed him the reward—his reward—in his surrender.
Forcing herself to take a breath, she peppered kisses in a straight line from his mouth, down his chin and neck to the hollow of his throat. “And if I am right?”
“Then I’ll be grateful I discovered who I am with you, Mistress.”
Hearing the respect in that term, coming from Knox, pushed her to the edge of emotion she’d kept locked away. She murmured in Japanese that he’d humbled her.
“Maybe before I agreed to a night with you, I should’ve asked how you became a Domme.”
Shiori looked up. “I’m not comfortable—”
“Me neither. Let’s stretch out in the conference chairs.” Without asking permission, he picked her up and carried her to the captain’s chair at the head of the table. He sat, settling her on his lap with her head resting between his neck and shoulder. “See? This is much better.” He paused. “Or am I supposed to be at your feet?”