He shook his head.

"What? You're not going to tell me everything I put on is wonderful?"

"Why would I do that? I want you to feel confident. And it bunches around the hip. Your body is perfect. The dress isn't."

She sighed.

"Honesty," he reminded her. "It's the only way to build trust. So admit it. You like the black dress."

"It's nice. But it's not my style."

"It could be if you're brave enough." He enjoyed the thrust and parry with Lara. This woman wasn't just steamily s.e.xy, she was savvy. Brains and beauty were a combination he was finding delicious.

After the way she'd responded yesterday in the playroom, he'd suspected she would enjoy this afternoon's scene. Then, he'd trained her how to greet him. When he'd smacked her c.u.n.t, her reaction had astounded him. She'd come hard, fast, wet. It had cost him plenty in terms of restraint to be polite and hold a conversation in the car. His blood had blazed in his brain, demanding he take her. He'd left her on the verge of a climax at her house. But he hadn't told her that all her suffering made his d.i.c.k ache.

Then she'd presented herself in the playroom. Her innocence and nudity would undo the hardest heart.

The way she'd taken his single tail had given him immense satisfaction, a feeling of pride, even. He'd intended to go slowly, but he'd listened to her moans. He'd allowed her to drive the scene, and he'd given her what she asked for.

That she was willing to please him caused a mad demand and protective need to collide in him. He'd wanted to f.u.c.k her then, when she was striped, burning, on the edge. It'd been days since he'd jacked off, and thoughts of taking her were beginning to consume him. It would no doubt blow his mind. But a quick joining wouldn't do it for him. He wanted time to explore her and learn more about her. Which meant he had to wait. "Quit stalling. Or I'm coming in."

"You wouldn't."

His hand was on the door handle when she pulled it open.

"You would have," she amended.

He started to answer, but she interrupted, "You do what you say you're going to do."

"Count on it. Count on me. Now let me see you."

"I need a bigger size."

He moved back so that she had room. "Step out."

Slowly she did so.

"Hands behind your neck and turn all the way around."

She glanced around to see if anyone was staring.

"Gaze on me."

When she looked at him, he continued, "No one else matters. Even if you're momentarily embarra.s.sed, you'll still be pleasing me. People aren't watching you as much as you think they are. And you'll never see them again. Worry about me."

She put her hands behind her neck and slowly turned.

"Stop." Because of where the floor-length mirror was positioned, he saw her reflection. She was worrying her lower lip. "I can see a couple of marks. Before you wear it again, I'll use a cane first."

"It's too..." Lara tugged on the neckline then the hem. "I was going to say it's too much, but the truth is, it's too d.a.m.n little. There's not enough of it to cover anything."

"It was made for you."

She completed her circle and looked at him. "Do you know how much this thing costs per square inch?"

"Spoken like a CFO. They're the only ones who would calculate a dress that way."

"Anyone with a brain would," she countered as she let her hands fall to her sides. "At least cost per wear. How many times would I wear something like this?"

He shrugged. "Dozens?"

"Real life isn't like that." She rolled her eyes. "No one dresses like this on a regular basis."

"My wife d.a.m.n well will."

The clerk came over. "Your husband is right. It's beautiful on you."

"He's not my-"

"Yet," he finished. "She'll take it and the other one."

"I'll pay for the purple one. But since the black one is yours, you can pay for it."

"Excellent solution." He told the clerk to ring them up, giving Lara no further opportunity for argument. "The only thing missing is jewelry."

"Absolutely not," Lara said.

"We have some nice costume pieces," the woman supplied helpfully.

He wandered to the necklaces while Lara changed back into her own clothes and paid for the purple dress. A little while later, she joined him.

"No arguments," he said before she could open her mouth. "Try this." He removed the triangle-shaped pendant and fastened the choker around her neck. It was ridiculous how much he liked the way it looked. "It'll do until we can get you a real collar."

Her eyes widened. "You're scaring the c.r.a.p out of me. Your contract said that would only be for when we attended lifestyle events."

He nodded. "We'll talk about it. Will you wear the necklace? Not as a symbol, but because it will look nice with the dress?"

"Connor."

"Your choice, Lara. I won't force you."

"I'll consider it," she hedged.

"Fair enough." He unfastened the clasp then went to pay for his purchases.

Within five minutes, they were on the way home. The tissue-wrapped necklace was stowed inside the garment bag, but he'd left the pendant behind.

"So you bought me a dress instead of paying off the debt of a medium-sized corporation?"

"A small one," he agreed.

He let them both into the house, and he said, "Can I pour you a fresh gla.s.s of wine before I take my shower?"

"I can get it, if you'd like?"

"Yeah." He wanted her to feel totally at ease, find her way around the kitchen, make her mark on it like he intended to leave his on her.

He left the bag in the bedroom closet before heading into the shower.

She joined him in the bathroom. "Is it okay if I fix my makeup in here? Or do you want me to do it somewhere else?"

"This is fine." The intimacy of the scene didn't escape him. She was the first woman he'd had in his loft. If things worked the way he envisioned, this would become a habit.

After rinsing off the soap, he sluiced the water off then exited the stall. Belatedly, he reached for a white towel and wrapped it around his hips.

She had turned and was looking at him. She was wearing the black dress. She'd layered on a smoky gray eye shadow, touched up her mascara, and a tube of lipstick was suspended in front of her. She'd swiped a touch of red across her lower lip, but the top was alluringly bare. "Ah..."

"Yeah. Don't think that beating your hot a.s.s and licking your p.u.s.s.y hasn't affected me."

She put down the lipstick. "You say stuff like that on purpose."

He crooked a finger at her and she went to him.

He kissed her, sucking her lip into his mouth then devouring her. She lifted up to thread her hands into his hair.

The towel fell and his c.o.c.k pressed against her dress.

With her eyes closed, she responded completely to him. No matter the words that sometimes came out of her mouth, her body told the truth. She wanted him, and she was willing to submit.

Since they still needed to make it to dinner, he reluctantly ended the kiss. "I'm afraid I've made a mess of your lipstick."

"I'm more than okay with that."

As he dried himself, he watched her. She was reapplying the red while she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. The little tease was taking her time, going back and forth, intentionally driving him mad. "You'll pay for that," he vowed.

"What?" She opened her eyes, wide and innocent, watching him watch her. "I'm just making sure I don't miss a spot."

She blotted off the excess and dropped the tissue onto the countertop. The shape of her lips was there, in tormenting glory.

"You're going to get what you're asking for if you keep that up," he told her.

In response, she reached for the dress's hem and pulled it up above her hips. She had no panties on underneath. He saw bites from his whip. It had to hurt still. And she was asking for more. Heat, molten and demanding, pulsed in him. "Careful," he warned.

"I'm being nothing but, Sir," she responded.

He dropped his towel and moved to her left side.

Again without being told, she grabbed hold of the countertop.

"How many, Lara?"

She turned her head to look at him. "Whatever you say, Sir."

"Six." f.u.c.k. His c.o.c.k throbbed, its tip pressing against her skin.

She moved to spread her legs wider. He had to have a taste.

He touched her p.u.s.s.y. She was already damp, and as he stroked, she became wetter. He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it.

This time, he didn't warm her up. Instead, he put a hand on her b.u.t.t cheek. Then, satisfied with the placement, drew back and landed it.

She gasped at the force and moved away.

Just as fast, she wiggled back and presented her a.s.s.

Connor put the next two on top of the first, offering no quarter, delivering what she craved, making sure she'd feel it as she sat in his car then later on a chair at dinner.

"That hurts...so good."

He moved farther away and repositioned himself slightly so he could use his forehand to spank her other b.u.t.tock. She pulled away after the first to regroup, but then looked at him, straight in the eye. Hunger was etched on her face.

"Ready, Sir."

He couldn't fathom there being anyone more suited to him. Whatever he offered, she accepted.

He finished her off, and she took it with nothing more than a quick inhalation. "That ought to hold you, sub."

"For a while," she agreed.

"Shall I cancel the reservations?"

"I'm afraid I'll wear you out if you do, Sir."

"Do you have any idea the danger you're inviting?" he asked.

"Probably not." She reached out to put a fingertip on his jaw. "But I'm learning to trust you."

Potent words. "I may have to choose some sort of other punishment for you," he said. "Like standing in the corner."

She wrinkled her nose. "Then you couldn't touch me."

"You're too clever by far, Lara. Finish getting ready."

"Yes, Sir." She gave a quick, sa.s.sy grin before leaving him in the bathroom.

When he joined her, she was wearing the dress and her shoes. "It's even better with the heels," he said. Her calves were accentuated, and her legs seemed to go on forever. "I may never let you wear anything else. When you're done with that dress, the cost per wear will be about twelve cents. Did you put on panties?"

"No."