"It doesn't have to be difficult. He's cantankerous and perhaps overwhelmed."

"Stubborn. Which makes you two a bit alike."

"I think that was meant as an insult." But there was no acrimony in his tone.

"It wasn't meant that way."

"I believe you."

"As for my house, I'd like to keep it."

"You could rent it out."

"I'm not sure I want to put my belongings in storage for that long. And I'd hate to sell it. I shopped for it for years, and... It may seem ridiculous, but it's mine. I want somewhere to go back to when this is over. Would you consider moving in with me?" The idea made her blood heat. She pictured him naked, enjoying Sat.u.r.day breakfast, coming home after a business trip.

"I prefer to be downtown near the office."

"I understand that, especially for a single man. And my yard is my respite from the world. I have enough room for you to be comfortable. Will you think about it, at least?"

"Lara-"

"For me?"

"Now who's not fighting fair?"

"Thank you." She leaned toward him and kissed his forehead.

His eyes widened for a moment before he schooled his reaction. But she'd had a glimpse. For all his gruffness, he did have a softer side. If she weren't careful, she might start to fall for this man. Nothing could be more dangerous to her emotional and mental health.

"That's it? No further objections?"

"The financials are fairly straightforward. I'll get you mine. But we have to sort all of these things out."

"Do you have plans this evening?"

"No."

"Do you shower or bathe before bed?"

"Generally I take a bath to help me relax." Which is why she had fallen in love with his soaker tub.

"Good. Call me before you climb into bed. Be naked."

She looked at him, knew she was falling under his spell, taking another step toward being his submissive and not objecting to the journey. "Is there a reason?"

"Yes."

"Care to enlighten me?" she asked when he allowed the silence to stretch.

"No."

She needed to be careful, she realized, or else she'd give him anything he asked for.

"Let me know when you've set up that meeting with your mother so we can get our agreement over to your lawyer. I'm looking forward to talking to you tonight."

Chapter Six.

Just before ten, Connor's phone rang.

He answered immediately, "Good evening, Lara." Wife-to-be. Ridiculous how much he liked that thought.

"I..." She paused.

He waited.

"I had a bath."

She had an amazing, appealing combination of innocence and boldness. Even before the marriage proposal, she'd intrigued him. With it, she'd snared him. "Tell me what you're wearing."

"A towel. Peach colored."

The addition of the detail made him hard. He imagined the shade made her honeyed skin seem even more sun-kissed.

All evening, he'd been thinking of Lara, remembering the sight of her bent over his desk, his bed.

He'd dove into the building's swimming pool soon after he'd gotten home. As he'd cut through the water with powerful strokes, he'd realized that he was thinking of the future. The thought had startled him. Since the loss of his father, he'd exercised to keep the grief at bay or to sort through the numerous difficulties he faced running a multinational company. "Where are you in your house?"

"My bedroom."

"Drop the towel and lie on your bed. Face down so that you can put the phone next to you on speaker." He wondered if she'd protest.

Moments later she murmured, "Yes, Sir."

"You're so wonderful, Lara." He sat back against the living room sofa and reached for his gla.s.s of brandy. He took a sip while he listened to her movements. The sounds grew louder as she found the speaker b.u.t.ton and he heard a faint whisper that might have been her towel falling to the floor.

In the past, he hadn't thought a lot about getting married. Rather, it had been an abstract thought. The only thing he'd known for sure was that D/s would be a part of any union. But he'd had no idea how rewarding it would be. Having this woman, so smart, courageous, beautiful as his submissive? The reality was sublime.

"I'm in position, Sir," she said.

"You're right-handed?"

"I am."

"I want you to use your left hand to part your l.a.b.i.a. Then use your right to stroke your c.l.i.t, make sure it's exposed, meaning pull back the hood. I want you to feel this deeply."

She moaned.

"Touch only the outside of your p.u.s.s.y."

"This feels strange to be doing this with you, like..."

While she was searching for words, he instructed her, rea.s.sured her by saying, "Do as you're told, Lara. There's no room for you to be embarra.s.sed when you're pleasing me. Imagine I'm there."

"I wish you were. This was easier when you were doing it."

"Some time when we're together, I'll watch you do it and give you some pointers."

"You would?"

"Yeah. I will. Stroke yourself, little Lara. Now."

Her soft moans told him she was doing as he said. Despite the fact he expected exactly that, he still found it gratifying. "A little faster."

"Ah..."

She'd obviously shoved aside her hesitation and was focusing on what he'd asked of her. "That's it." His words were as approving as he was. "Imagine me spanking your a.s.s, hard. With my hand, blazing across your skin."

"Sir!"

"Don't you dare put a finger in your c.u.n.t."

She groaned. "I won't."

"I took off my belt earlier," he continued, "and I thought about using it on you, starting just above the backs of your knees. You'd have marks from that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes. Oh, yes. Oh..."

"No coming yet." His c.o.c.k throbbed. Ignoring it, focusing on her and only her, he took a sip of his brandy. "Faster, little Lara. Italian leather was made for your derriere. Are you grinding your pelvis against the sheets and making a mess of them? If not, you'd better be. I don't like polite little o.r.g.a.s.ms. I want everything. No holding back. I don't want you to be a lady in my bed. I want you to be a wanton submissive. Focus on bringing your Dom joy. And that comes from raunchy s.e.x."

"I... Sir... Oh, G.o.d, Connor..."

"Hold off," he snapped. How far could he push her? And did he want to make her wait, maybe see if she climaxed despite his command? "Think about me, Lara."

"I am. I am."

"Pinch your c.l.i.t."

The sound of her breathing filled his ears and his senses. He pictured her thighs shaking, vividly imagined her thrusting her pubis against her hand. "Put two fingers inside your p.u.s.s.y. Do it now. And keep up the action on your c.l.i.t. Use your thumb if you need to."

For a full thirty seconds, he listened to her suffering, knowing she was close, hearing her fight it off. She made tiny, unfeminine grunts and her moans begged him for satisfaction. "Now," he told her. "Come for me."

There was silence for few moments, then she gasped. The sound quickly became a soft scream. He remembered earlier, in his office, when he'd had to put his hand over her mouth. Now, as then, she ended on a soft sigh with ragged breathing. Everything about her was desirable. "Very, very good."

He heard odd noises, as if she was picking up the phone, taking it off speaker, maybe rolling over onto her back. He pictured her b.r.e.a.s.t.s heaving from the exertion. Tomorrow couldn't arrive soon enough.

"I've never done anything quite like that," she said.

"There's much more to come. Sleep well, Lara."

"Wait. That's it?"

"What more do you want?"

"I don't know. Something. That was incredible."

The connection, he knew. That's what she wanted. Him to be there, just for a bit. A form of aftercare he hadn't really thought through. Earlier, he'd encouraged her to turn to him, and she had. Definitely a step he appreciated. "You couldn't have been better. Are you ready for bed? Doors locked? Lights off?"

"I need to turn off the light in the kitchen."

"Take me with you. But don't put any clothes on. And don't try to be sneaky. I can hear everything you're doing. And I'll know if you put it on mute."

"Does anything get by you?"

"Not where you're concerned." He swirled his gla.s.s and heard the change in her breathing as she walked.

"Okay. The light's off."

"Now back to bed." There was quiet and he took the final drink of his brandy. He wasn't feeling tired at all. In fact, he was rather consumed by the idea of curling her against him tomorrow night.

"Okay, I'm there. In bed, I mean."

"Sleep naked."

"I usually wear a nightshirt."

"Did I ask that?"

She made a sound he identified as part sigh, part exhalation of frustration. He was fine with that, as long as she did as she was told.

"Lara?"

"I got it. Naked. Even if I freeze."

"Overnight low should be in the high sixties or maybe low seventies." He put down his gla.s.s, stifling a laugh. "I think you're safe."

"Heartless."

"You'll find out just how much tomorrow."

"Is that a promise or a threat, Sir?"

Her words were sultry and effective. "That's a little brave, considering whose a.s.s will be upturned over my spanking bench tomorrow."