I’ve known it for years. I need a woman who
can submit to me. I realize now I would have been miserable even under the best of
circumstances with Christine. She was a horrible submissive, mostly because she was
faking it. You… You might be submissive.”
I stared at him. Was I? Really? Or was I just so fucking horny and I’d lusted after
him for so long that he seemed like an Adonis? Maybe he was an asshole inside. Maybe
I couldn’t be what he needed.
“I’d like to explore that possibility. Would you do that for me?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Do what exactly?”
“Submit to me. Try it out. See if it works for you.”
“Yes.” It was the only possibly answer. I stated that one word firmly.
Time stood still. Seconds ticked by. Finally, Riley spoke. “I feel like I’ve won the
lottery.”
“Maybe I have.”
Chapter Eight
Silence stretched forever it seemed. We stared into each other’s eyes and breathed
heavily. I wasn’t sure what to do next.
Finally, Riley cleared his throat. “Stand up, baby.”
I struggled to my feet and resumed the stance he’d put me in before. I clasped my
hands together in front of me.
He stood also and stepped around the coffee table to circle me again. When he came
up behind me, he clasped my wrists and tugged them apart. “Set them at your sides.
Don’t move them.”
I let my arms hang loose at my sides.
Riley flattened his palms on my bare back and stroked my skin. Goose bumps rose in
their wake. His fingers eased around to my sides and slithered under the material
covering my breasts. In painstakingly slow motion, he gently cupped my breasts. “This
is the sexiest dress I’ve ever seen.”
“Amy got it for me,” I choked out, fighting the urge to moan as my nipples puckered
under his thumbs. I arched into his hands.
“She’s got good taste.” He smoothed his hands over my breasts until he reached my
shoulders. “Dip your head, baby.”
I lowered my gaze to the floor.
Riley untied the silk at my neck—the only thing holding the dress up. When he released
the two ends, the entire dress slid to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my thong.
I flinched, fighting the urge to cover myself. My breath caught at the cool air in
the room and the extreme exposure.
Riley stepped between my legs and flattened his palms on my belly, pinning my arms
at my sides. His lips landed on my shoulder. “Jesus. Your skin is perfect.” He spread
one hand up to cup a breast. The other inched toward my pussy and paused just above
the tiny strap of my thong.
His cock pressed into my back.
His top hand left my breast to spread over my neck. He pressed on my chin to push
my head back onto his shoulder. “How many men have you been with?”
The question was unexpected. I sucked in a breath. My head swam.
“Cheyenne. How many?”
“Two,” I whispered.
He hissed. “When?”
I swallowed. I was all but naked. The sexiest man I’d ever set eyes on had his arms
wrapped around me from behind, holding me against him possessively, and he wanted
to discuss my other partners?
“When, Cheyenne?” His voice was softer. Gentle. He stroked the thin skin at my neck.
“One in high school. One in college.”
“How long ago?”
“Four years.” I hated admitting that. It made me look ridiculous. But he didn’t give
me much of a choice.
He blew out a breath. “Jesus.” His lips landed on my bare shoulder again. He nibbled
a path to my ear and sucked my earlobe into his mouth. “I’m going to make you forget
both of them.”
“That won’t be hard,” I muttered, letting my head loll against his shoulder.
He smiled. I felt it against my neck. And then his forehead landed on my shoulder.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“I hope not.”
Riley released me so quickly I teetered. He rounded to face me, leaving about two
feet between us. “Clasp your hands behind your back again.”
I
can submit to me. I realize now I would have been miserable even under the best of
circumstances with Christine. She was a horrible submissive, mostly because she was
faking it. You… You might be submissive.”
I stared at him. Was I? Really? Or was I just so fucking horny and I’d lusted after
him for so long that he seemed like an Adonis? Maybe he was an asshole inside. Maybe
I couldn’t be what he needed.
“I’d like to explore that possibility. Would you do that for me?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Do what exactly?”
“Submit to me. Try it out. See if it works for you.”
“Yes.” It was the only possibly answer. I stated that one word firmly.
Time stood still. Seconds ticked by. Finally, Riley spoke. “I feel like I’ve won the
lottery.”
“Maybe I have.”
Chapter Eight
Silence stretched forever it seemed. We stared into each other’s eyes and breathed
heavily. I wasn’t sure what to do next.
Finally, Riley cleared his throat. “Stand up, baby.”
I struggled to my feet and resumed the stance he’d put me in before. I clasped my
hands together in front of me.
He stood also and stepped around the coffee table to circle me again. When he came
up behind me, he clasped my wrists and tugged them apart. “Set them at your sides.
Don’t move them.”
I let my arms hang loose at my sides.
Riley flattened his palms on my bare back and stroked my skin. Goose bumps rose in
their wake. His fingers eased around to my sides and slithered under the material
covering my breasts. In painstakingly slow motion, he gently cupped my breasts. “This
is the sexiest dress I’ve ever seen.”
“Amy got it for me,” I choked out, fighting the urge to moan as my nipples puckered
under his thumbs. I arched into his hands.
“She’s got good taste.” He smoothed his hands over my breasts until he reached my
shoulders. “Dip your head, baby.”
I lowered my gaze to the floor.
Riley untied the silk at my neck—the only thing holding the dress up. When he released
the two ends, the entire dress slid to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my thong.
I flinched, fighting the urge to cover myself. My breath caught at the cool air in
the room and the extreme exposure.
Riley stepped between my legs and flattened his palms on my belly, pinning my arms
at my sides. His lips landed on my shoulder. “Jesus. Your skin is perfect.” He spread
one hand up to cup a breast. The other inched toward my pussy and paused just above
the tiny strap of my thong.
His cock pressed into my back.
His top hand left my breast to spread over my neck. He pressed on my chin to push
my head back onto his shoulder. “How many men have you been with?”
The question was unexpected. I sucked in a breath. My head swam.
“Cheyenne. How many?”
“Two,” I whispered.
He hissed. “When?”
I swallowed. I was all but naked. The sexiest man I’d ever set eyes on had his arms
wrapped around me from behind, holding me against him possessively, and he wanted
to discuss my other partners?
“When, Cheyenne?” His voice was softer. Gentle. He stroked the thin skin at my neck.
“One in high school. One in college.”
“How long ago?”
“Four years.” I hated admitting that. It made me look ridiculous. But he didn’t give
me much of a choice.
He blew out a breath. “Jesus.” His lips landed on my bare shoulder again. He nibbled
a path to my ear and sucked my earlobe into his mouth. “I’m going to make you forget
both of them.”
“That won’t be hard,” I muttered, letting my head loll against his shoulder.
He smiled. I felt it against my neck. And then his forehead landed on my shoulder.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“I hope not.”
Riley released me so quickly I teetered. He rounded to face me, leaving about two
feet between us. “Clasp your hands behind your back again.”
I
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