“Yes.”
And nothingelse.
I swallowed, nevertaking my eyes off her face, and went all in. “Want to demonstratefor me?”
I had to ask. Therewas no way after how she’d vetted me earlier that I wanted to pushher into something she wasn’t ready to try. It had to be herdecision. Her fear and panic mixed at a primal level in a toxicmix, and I had to work past that to help her heal, if she’d letme.
“I—yes. I can dothat.” Enota squeezed my hand and started, untangling our fingerslike she’d forgotten she held it. She walked to the bench with slowsteps and raised a knee.
Awareness andindecision crossed her face, and I knew she’d realized that inmounting the bench, she’d likely expose her panty-covered pussy tome, trapped away beneath her stockings.
I leaned back,keeping my face neutral while she made her decision. I didn’t wantto give her pressure, but offering an easy out wasn’t my way. Ifshe wanted to walk, I needed her to balls up and tell me.
Biting her lip, sheglanced over her shoulder at me and pressed her knee into thebench. Facing the front, she brought her other knee to the oppositepad, her thighs spread across the wide pad that ran the length ofthe bench to increase both support and posture.
Her breath left herin a whoosh as she leaned forward and placed her hands on theforward-most pads. Completely exposed, her round ass peeked at mefrom beneath her skirt, and thanks to the lights, a decent wetpatch was visible on her pale-pink cotton panties through herfishnets that really hid nothing.
The situation turnedher on as much as it did me.
“Good girl,” Imurmured, unable to take my eyes off the glorious sight of herleaning forward over the bench, breasts hanging on either side,plump thighs spread, her need so obvious I could almost tasteit.
She turned her headto the side, rested it on the padding, and whimpered.
Chapter Three
Enota
This was madness.Iwas madness. I knelt astride the spanking bench, spreadout like a dinner treat for a stranger I knew nothing about.
All right, I knewhis name. And that he liked when I played it cautiously.
But this wasnotbeing fucking cautious.
This felt reckless,and needy, and good.
His gaze traced itsway up the backs of my thighs, probing pale flesh in a phantomtouch to where my aching center lay. I’d been needy since he got meto do my little tour around the room, and every not-question he’dasked made it worse. Oh, I’d noticed his questions weren’t reallyquestions, but it was his game, and I’d agreed to it, withinreason.
This bit didnotcome into thewithin reasoncategory, but Iwasn’t fighting because on some level, I wanted it. Wanted to seeif he’d touch me. Wondered what his fingers on my spread thighswould feel like, or if I’d like him near me.
My entire bodyheated, and he hadn’t even touched me yet. All he did was standbehind me and stare. My pussy clenched, hot from a gush of fluid Iwas certain he could see that added to my needy shame, and coldfrom the air that cooled the liquid collected on my panties.
My breath camefaster at the exposure, and my nipples tingled. I hadn’t worn a brabeneath my singlet top or the black spiderweb-type wrap thing thatgave me a second light layer. The pebbled nubs rubbed against theinside of my shirt, and I moaned until a sound stopped me. A hard,undeniable sound stopped everything altogether.
A footstep.
And another.
Each one measured,precise, and unhurried. As if he were at leisure to take his timeand play with every second before he touched me.
My body thrummedwith need. A second whimper escaped my mouth as he stopped besideme.
Not touching, justsilence. Looking. Watching.
I arched my back,pressing my pelvis into the bench.
A sharp smackingsound ripped a shocked cry from my lips, but there was no sting onmy exposed skin.
He’d struck the edgeof the bench. “Don’t move, little mouse.”
