Free Sybil Disobedience by Brynn Paulin

shook her head, a little stunned that this was it.
    He gently pulled apart her lips as he kissed her. His tongue leisurely took her mouth, tasting, stroking, reclaiming as she stirred beneath him. Her need for him was an undying ember, flaring to life at the slightest provocation.
    “So will you?” he asked against her lips.
    “What?” she whispered, dazed. “Make waffles?”
    “Move in like we’d planned.”
    Had he asked that? Surely she couldn’t have missed that. “Are you sure? I mean…I…hurt you.”
    “You hurt you, too. Which is unacceptable, by the way, and will result in punishment in the future.”
    “Yes, Sir,” she murmured.
    “And, yes, I’m sure. You never stopped being mine. I want you with me. Always. I want to eat waffles with you in the morning. I want to wake up in the middle of the night and have you in my arms. I want to fuck you in every room of this massive house—”
    “Not in the basement. It’s creepy and I think they’re spiders.”
    “Everywhere but the basement,” he agreed. “Even the porch. I want you to ride me while we swing. In broad daylight.”
    She bit her lip, thinking about it and nodded. She liked the idea.
    “You know what I’ve missed even more than your waffles?”
    “I can’t imagine. You made a point of seeing me every day. You’d make a good stalker.”
    “Smart mouth.” He kissed her hard. “I missed hearing your damn sewing machine every damn day. You always had some urgent project going.”
    “It drives most people nuts.”
    “Not me. See? Meant to be. Your machine soothes the growly beast.”
    She made a face, telling him she didn’t believe it.
    He traced her collarbone, his gaze focused on his finger. “You never answered.”
    “If you have the stuff, I’ll make waffles.”
    “And move in.”
    She grinned, sunlight filling her despite the dark room. “Yes, Sir.”
    * * * *
    When she walked into work on Monday, Syb was pretty sure everyone in the club knew what she’d been doing all weekend. All weekend. Kellon had made good on his need to christen every room of the house. Her entire body, including her ass, was sore from the overuse. As far as she was concerned, that was absolutely perfect.
    She glanced sideways. If her huge grin didn’t give her away, the man looming at her side did. He looked almost…cheerful. He wouldn’t intimidate anyone today.
    “Syb,” Marcy called out as they walked past the desk. “Rob wants to see you upstairs in the theatre. You too, Kellon.”
    “I have an appointment in fifteen—”
    “He said you were to go up immediately, no matter what,” Marcy interrupted.
    Kellon took Syb’s hand. “Come along, Sybil mine. Let’s get this over with.”
    “Get what over with?” she asked, digging in her heels. The mirth glinting in his eyes annoyed her. “You know what this is about, don’t you? It was him you were on the phone with earlier.”
    “Sybil, now,” he grated, his tone calling her back in line. “He wants us upstairs, and you will comply.”
    “But the theatre…”
    “Sybil,” he warned.
    “Sorry, Sir,” she muttered, allowing him to lead her to the elevators. The theatre was used for exhibition play. That wasn’t really her thing. Sneaking sex in the open where she might get caught was one thing, but knowing she’d be naked in front of a group was another. Sometimes, group scenes turned into full-on orgies.
    He paused outside the side doors that led to the backstage area. Taking her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “Remember that you belong to me.”
    “Yes, Sir.” That didn’t come close to easing her mind. Was there a chance that might be an issue? That someone else might try something with her? That he planned to let someone else have her but wanted her to know he was still taking her home. That was not okay at all. She was into kink, but not swinging and sharing. No one else touched Kellon’s cock and no one else touched her, either.
    The door opened to reveal