“Give me my flogger, Bunny.”
She licked her lower lip and bit it. She was holding the flogger behind her back, but he saw the long falls, a perfect blue to match her eyes, hanging past her shapely hips. In his mind’s eye, he could already see her skin, marked and hot from the flogging, her eyes dazed as she begged for more.
“Can you say please?”
Now that he’d known a sub who challenged him, who knowingly riled his dominant side, how could he ever have thought he’d be satisfied with a perfect, biddable sub?
She wants me to say please. “Please.”
“That was nice, but it’s better if you don’t growl at me first. Now say pretty please with sugar on top.”
Absolutely in her element, Bunny giggled and smirked as she kept her eyes on him, ready to move if he did, and drew the falls over her bare thigh. He could almost hear the soft calfskin slide over her silken flesh, could practically feel the vibration through the handle as the lengths fell in a rush to swing back and forth between her thighs.
“Bunny—”
“I don’t think I ever told you, but my mama’s family originally came from Gonzales, Texas. Do you know where that is?”
That low rumble came from his chest again. Damn, but she brought out the animal in him. “Yes, Bunny.”
“They have a town motto. Not all towns do, but they do. Do you know what it is?”
Grrr. “Bunny.” Knowing she had a point to get to, he sighed and said, “What is their town motto?” He stood in place and folded his arms over his chest, feeling the attention of the club on him.
She flicked her glowing gaze up and down his body. His cock was rigid and achingly hard, trapped in his boxers. The flush in her cheeks told him she saw the ridge at his groin, and her nipples hardened to tight points as she drew the flogger across them.
She gripped the handle of the flogger and her eyes twinkled as she slowly stroked it in an up and down motion, teasing him. “That growl is so sexy, but you have to listen first. You won’t understand if I don’t tell you the story behind the motto. The first battle of the Texas Revolution came about when Mexican officials representing that dictatorial dickhead Santa Anna decided that, in order to control the Texan settlers, it was a bad idea to let the town keep their cannon. So they sent a message to them saying, ‘Give it back.’ And do you know what the brave settlers of Gonzales told them?”
“No, but I’m hoping you’ll tell me soon, damn it.” She was stroking the flogger handle in that erotic fashion on purpose. He clasped his hands at the small of his back, his fingers twitching with the need to grasp great handfuls of her hair in them.
She snorted and slowly shook her finger back and forth at him, the fiery-headed little demon. “Temper, Beastly. Now, bear in mind I’m paraphrasing here, but those brave men refused to relinquish that cannon and sent a message back. ‘You want it? Come and take it.’”
Under her spell, her eyes enticing him to come closer, he ignored the tingling on his back and the absence of conversation around him. Only the club music accompanied the pounding in his heart and the regular, rapid flutter of the pulse at her throat.
“As you wish, fiammetta,” he murmured, close enough to see the flecks of green surrounding the dark edge of her pupils. Her breathing was rapid, coming in puffs from her lips that he felt against his throat as she looked up at him. The flush in her cheeks had spread to her throat and her shoulders, and her nipples, still so red and ripe from their earlier adornment, were tightened up into peaks that must positively throb with a fiery ache. Full of spirit, but not defiance, she watched him. Waiting.
Yes.
One glance, to the floor in front of her. He backed away a few inches to give her space, and she didn’t look away as she lowered to her knees. The flogger handle, resting in her opened palms, was lifted to him. Not merely acquiescence. Supplication.
Bunny Carrigan didn’t give over to anyone easily. But she gave over to him. He didn’t need her to lick his shoes. He didn’t want her to crawl behind him. She gave the submission he required, falling to her knees with only the nonverbal cue. He wished all submissives were as observant.
The sounds around him gradually filtered into his consciousness, returning to normal levels as Doms and subs resumed their conversations or their play. If he’d needed an indicator she was ready to visit his private dungeon, she’d just given it. The first pair of eyes he met as he turned from her were Randall’s, across the club, where he’d been observing. Randall nodded and then leaned his head toward Samson, who was nearby. Walking slowly between the seating areas, Joseph caught Samson’s eye, and the sadist nodded affirmatively at him.