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While he closed the door, she did as he instructed.

“You’re going to be punished,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

He was just trying to decide whether or not to have her completely naked before starting. Generally Trevor preferred his subs to be nude when he punished them. Often he had them disrobe symbolically.

He liked that, when naked, his women were unable to hide from him. He didn’t want any skin off-limits to his touch. If he wanted to make a point by landing a stroke against the inside of a thigh, he didn’t want fabric minimizing his blow.

Mostly he just loved the sight of a woman’s body with its tantalizing skin and soft curves. But this vixen, in white leather chaps and hot little boots was making him rethink his strategy.

He stopped behind her and said, “Tell me why you’re going to be punished.”

“Sir, because I didn’t keep my gaze downcast in the poker room.”

“No,” he said. “If you’d been my sub at the time, you’d have been punished swiftly while we were in the poker room. But I would have made my expectations clear beforehand. It’s doubtful you’d have even attempted that kind of disobedience.”

He moved around to stand in front of her. He saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “It was Master David’s right and responsibility to ensure your proper behavior before you agreed to submit to me. If he chose not to correct you, that doesn’t concern me.” He crouched. He placed a finger beneath her chin and tipped her head so that she looked at him.

Her eyes were wide, unblinking.

“Tell me why I would choose to punish you.”

“Because you can,” she whispered.

“Sometimes,” he agreed. He traced the pad of his thumb across her upper lip, taking his time, making sure she was as aware of him as he was of her. He admired his own restraint. He wanted to see her strapped to the horse, her body trembling in anticipation. “Keep going. Why else are you being punished?”

“Because it took me so long to grab my ankles when you told me to.”

“And?”

“Because I hesitated before…”

“No embarrassment,” he reminded her.

“I hesitated before I spread my ass cheeks.”

“It’s more about the fact you hesitated at all, no matter what the order. Since you’re unaccustomed to dealing with a dom who has uncompromising expectations, this punishment will be lenient as far as punishments go…simply a taste of my lash, more instructive than punitive. But make the same mistake a second time and I promise you will not enjoy the experience.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me your understanding of the differences between punishment and discipline.”

“I…” She licked her lower lip. “I’m not sure I know.”

“Punishment is generally swift and in direct proportion to the nature of the infraction.”

“I see.”

“Discipline is something I’ll engage in to ensure your continued good behavior. I’ll guarantee you’ll never climax from my punishments.”

“And from your discipline?”

Cheeky sub. With his thumb he stroked her cheekbone. “Almost always.” He released her chin. He stood and folded his arms across his chest. “Stand. I’m going to cut off your panties.”

Her eyes opened wide. He wondered for a moment if she’d argue with him, but finally she complied, even though her movements were slow and a little jerky. They’d work on that over the next week. He watched and waited with infinite patience. This may have been the best bet he’d ever won.

From a hook on the wall, he grabbed a pair of safety scissors, like the type carried by EMTs. Master Xavier equipped his club well. “Put your hands behind your neck,” he told Shelby.

“The panties…they’re new.”

“And?”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

She stood still while he crouched to snip the scrap of fabric from her hips.

“Lovely,” he said as the ruined thong dropped to the wooden floor.

She closed her legs. Then, without being instructed, she parted them again.

Quick learner.

Trevor allowed himself the pleasure of looking at her, from top to bottom.

Her unruly hair fell over the feminine curve of her shoulders. She had a lovely, kissable neck, and the concha from her bolo tie lay alluringly against her throat. He liked the looks of her in anything that resembled a collar.

The vest, even though it wasn’t fastened, covered far too much, especially since she’d also worn a bra. If she were his sub, he wouldn’t allow her to wear so damn many clothes. Still, he appreciated the tantalizing hint of midriff.

His gaze continued lower, and he appreciated the well-groomed thatch of her pubic hair. “Lovely,” he said. But he’d ceremoniously remove it later, as a sign of his dominance. “Now remove everything from the waist up.” She could leave the chaps in place, he decided. The white leather against her dark skin looked beautiful, and he particularly liked the way the boot heels emphasized her calf muscles. Naked, he was learning, wasn’t always best.

She shrugged out of the vest and held it by her side.

Her nipples, dark and hardened, peeked out above the lace of her shelf bra.

What the hell had he been thinking choosing celibacy for the past few months?

He took the vest from her and hung it on a peg on the wall.

She took off the bolo, then shook her head. He wanted to have his hands in the riotous mess of her hair, holding her captive while he fucked her from behind. “I’ll take that,” he said, extending his hand for the metal tie.

She handed over the bolo, and he placed it around his wrist. Her breasts spilled out over the top of the shelf bra’s lacy cups. Although her breasts weren’t large, they were firm, beautiful, touchable, and kissable. “Now remove your bra,” he instructed.

Silently she reached back and unfastened the clasp.

“Wait. I changed my mind.” He wanted to touch her, to feel the silkiness of her skin. “I’ll do that.” He drew the bra off her body. Until he’d said that, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was to touch her skin. He might be a dom, but he was a man first.

He skimmed his fingers across her chest. Her skin felt delicate in contrast to his work-roughened fingertips. He stroked the tips of her breasts, watching as her nipples hardened. Her breaths became even more shallow, and her lips were slightly parted. God. She was absolutely lovely in her responses.

After mentally reminding himself that he was responsible for this scene going well, for it being everything she hoped it would be, he turned away long enough to hang the bra on the same hook as her vest. “Offer your breasts to me,” he said when he returned to her.

“I…” She blinked. “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

“Do your best,” he told her.

She cupped her breasts and lifted them up.

“Perfect,” he said. His cock pressed against his zipper. “Squeeze your nipples.”

She did, and she let out a little moan.

“Again,” he said.

As she squeezed those taut brown tips, her hips jerked a little.

“Is your pussy damp, little sub?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You like having your nipples played with?”

“Yes, Sir. I do.”

“Show me.”

She released one of her breasts and trailed her fingertips between her legs. Then she held up her fingers.

In the overhead light, he saw the glisten of her feminine juices. “You are responsive.”

“To you, Sir.”

He captured Shelby’s hand, his fingers around her wrist. He raised her hand to his mouth and licked the juices off her fingers.