Damn him for knowing me so well.

“Then do as you’re told,” he warned. “Or else I won’t take you over my knee. As strange as that threat may be.”

I laughed and took a breath, positioning the hair tie over my mound. “Like this?”

“No, of course not. Spread yourself open.”

With the two fingers stretching the rubber band, I parted my labia, exposing the hard button of my straining clit. I pulled the elastic up and held my breath.

“There. That’s not so bad, is it?” He reached for his glass and took a long swallow.

I shifted my hips, dreading the pain, dreading the anticipation building inside of me. “I thought we weren’t supposed to be tipsy doing this.”

“As I’m not physically doing anything to you, and you’re sober, I think we’re safe.” He nodded at me. “Do it.”

I held my breath. Knowing how it would feel, seeing the evidence of the welt on my thigh, could I do this?

“Sophie.” It was a warning. I was expected to do as my Sir commanded. A thrill shot through me. When we were together, I would do anything for him. And knowing that only made me hotter for him.

I made a helpless noise of fear as I released the elastic. It snapped hard against my straining clit, and the resulting shock of pain cause me to gasp and jerk my hand away.

“No, no,” he told me. “Don’t move. Don’t close your legs.”

I wanted to squeeze my thighs shut to ease the burn. Holding them open prolonged the pain, and, strangely, intensified the pleasure I’d gotten from it.

“Again,” he ordered.

It was more difficult the second time. I knew what it would feel like, the sharp sting, the lingering ache. But I also knew the pleasure behind it, the relief of receiving a touch, even a painful one, on my needy, tortured flesh. I let the elastic snap again and restrained my cry, so it became a high-pitched, thin noise behind my closed lips.

“You want to touch yourself, don’t you?” he asked. “You want to press your hand over yourself and ease that pain.”

“I do, Sir,” I panted. It took real physical strength to keep my fingers from straying.

“You may. Until I tell you to stop.”

I pushed my fingertips over my clit, groaning my relief, rubbing soothing circles over my tortured flesh. The aftermath of the pain had left me oddly numb, though I knew that I should be aroused by my touch. Soon, though, as the sting faded and my fingers picked up their pace, I could feel everything just fine. I lifted my hips a little, rocking against my hand.

“I think that’s enough.” Neil’s voice opened my eyes, though I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them. Reluctantly, I pulled my fingers away.

“Do you want to come, Sophie?” he asked. I couldn’t take my eyes off the image of his cock on the screen. I felt so utterly empty. The thought that I would have to wait until the end of the week to be with him, that we would have to be in the same building every day and not be able to touch each other... I wanted to cry.

Instead, I whimpered, “Yes, Sir.”

“All right. Three more with the rubber band, for a nice even five. Then I would say you’d earned it.” His smile was deliciously malicious, and my cunt clenched on aching emptiness.

I squeaked in outrage. “Five isn’t an even number! Why not two more, for four?”

“Why not four more, for six?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I looked away to roll my eyes and laugh. I really, really wanted to refuse, to rebel against the command I didn’t like, yet at the same time... I really wanted to do as he said. In fact, I loved doing it. I would drop him in a heartbeat if he ever tried to order me around outside the bedroom the way he did in it, but it really pushed my buttons. It apparently even worked when we weren’t in the same zip code.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Three more.”

Taking a deep breath, I positioned the ponytail holder and stretched it up, waiting for him to tell me when.

“You can’t possibly understand how much I want you.” He stroked up his erection, pausing to squeeze the head, then slowly back down.

“I think can,” I panted, wetting my lips. Every part of me felt swollen and achy, from my lips to my breasts to my cunt. I wanted to come, and I knew I wouldn’t until he was good and ready.

I wondered what he would do if I “accidentally” let the elastic slip from my fingers. Would he tell me I couldn’t come? Would I be able to come, if he forbade me? Or would some crazy part of my brain just cut off the ability to orgasm based on his disapproval alone? The fact that I honestly didn’t know scared me a little bit. Which in turn only aroused me more.

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