Free Guilty Pleasures by Kitty Thomas Page B

streets outside the glass door and moved quickly through the shadows to avoid being seen.
    When she returned, the laptop was closed with the glasses folded and lying on top of it. Anton lounged on the bed, wearing a smirk and nothing else.
    Vivian swallowed convulsively.
    “Come here,” he commanded.
    She forced herself to move toward the bed, almost stumbling in the stupid shoes in her nervousness. Real sexy, Vivian.
    He patted the bed beside him, and she sat, feeling awkward. “I’ve never done this with anyone else before.”
    “Did I give you permission to speak?”
    Her panicked eyes shot to his. Why had she relaxed her guard? Stupid. “No, Sir.”
    He ran his fingers through her hair and around to the nape of her neck, gently kneading with one hand, then two. “Tell me Vivian, honestly. Do you intend to come back to me on Tuesday at our normally scheduled time?”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “Liar.”
    She tensed. It was a lie, but she was afraid if she told the truth, he’d never let her leave that room. She had to get free of him before she could vow never to come back.
    “Lie to me again, flower, and you will regret it. Do you intend to come back to me on Tuesday?”
    She was silent for a full minute until his hand tightened on the back of her neck. “No, Sir.”
    He laughed. “When I allow you to go home, you can make that decision. There are many days before Tuesday. You’ll want to use every one of them to make sure you’ve chosen the proper course.”
    His hands moved to unhook her bra. She sat motionless as he slid the scrap of lace off her and gasped when his hungry mouth found the hollow of her throat, sucking and biting with such an intensity she couldn’t stop the little moan that left her mouth.
    Vivian felt his reverberating chuckle against her neck. “You’ll be back,” he whispered, his lips moving to her ear. “You want the things I can make you feel too much.”
    She was sure by now that she was finished playing with fire. Her justifications for returning over and over to Dome were weak and pathetic. Instead of playing the victim, why can’t I just own it?
    She closed her eyes and imagined herself watching the scene from a distance, observing her body, docile, compliant. Like a doll. His doll. His filthy little fuck doll. She didn’t move to stroke or kiss him. She wouldn’t initiate a single thing, but she’d do whatever he told her to do.
    “I shouldn’t go easy on you after your earlier disobedience. I warned you about me.”
    Her breath caught, but she didn’t reply. She still wasn’t totally clear on his speech rules, and warped or not, she didn’t want to be the one in control. She relaxed as his hands moved to her front, arranging her, positioning her in the way he found attractive, tweaking her nipples into painful, hardened points.
    And then she started crying, great heaving sobs that made her shoulders shake. It wasn’t the pain of what he was physically doing to her. It was something much deeper, something inside of her that was clawing desperately to get out and had only needed the smallest of catalysts. She waited for him to mock her weakness, but instead he turned her so he could look into her eyes. She pulled away.
    “Don’t resist me, flower.”
    Slowly, Vivian turned her face back to him. She was sure if she looked in the mirror, her eyes would be stark, needing something but knowing this wasn’t the right man to give it to her.
    “Stand up, remove your panties, and bend over the bed with your palms flat on the surface.”
    “Please Sir . . . I . . . ”
    “This isn’t a negotiation.”
    Was this his version of I’ll give you something to cry about ? She got off the bed and moved to obey him. The lid of the trunk creaked open. Several items were shuffled around, until it was finally shut again.
    Anton moved behind her. “Look at the bed. Don’t turn around.”
    The pain that flared across her ass was so sharp she lost the ability to breathe for a moment. It