Found Read Online Free PDF

was because he had been friendly, ready to laugh and talk. Perhaps, because though his eyes had fallen once or twice to my body, he’d done it in a way that made me feel appreciated, not creeped out.
    I wasn’t feeling tentative right now. I wasn’t tense; I wasn’t nervous. What I was, in this moment, was unbearably aroused.
    “Are you going to ask permission for each item of clothing?” I teased. “Because this could take a while.”
    He shot me an amused look that nonetheless was underlined with concern. “I tend to be dominant by default,” he replied. “But I’m trying to go slow.”
    “Because I haven’t had sex in four years.”
    He exhaled. “I like rough sex, Rachel. Soft and gentle isn’t quite my style. But if your ex used to beat you during sex, that isn’t what you need.”
    Those words should have terrified me once again. But there’d been something in his eyes when I’d asked him if he would force me. Just for a second, an expression of total revulsion had crossed his face. I believed, even though I had no basis for my conviction, that if I was afraid and I wanted him to stop, he would. “Tell you what,” I leaned in and spoke into his ear. My breasts brushed against his arm and at the muted groan in his throat, I rubbed against him again. “If I want you to stop, I promise I’ll tell you. If I’m afraid, I’ll voice it. But in the meanwhile, I’m not going to break. I’m not fragile.”
    He eyed me speculatively. I met his gaze squarely. Finally, his lips twitched. “In that case, bright star,” he said to me, “take off your clothes.”
    “Here?” I looked around at the back yard. I could hear sounds of life in the neighboring houses. Televisions blared and dogs barked. Children cried loudly. The backyard was fenced and we couldn’t be seen. But we were surrounded by people who could hear us, the same way I could hear them.
    “Would you prefer if it was a dare?” he inquired with a wicked, panty-melting grin. Oh, he was enjoying this a little too much. I took a fortifying sip of the chilled wine and pulled my t-shirt over my head.
    I heard his breath catch. His eyes filled with heat. “Let me guess,” I joked, using humour as a momentary retreat from the intensity of his gaze, “jogging bras really turn you on.”
    He chuckled, though his eyes remained serious. “Take it off.” He took a sip of wine as well as he waited for me to comply.
    This was it. The moment of truth.
    I’d been ordered to strip so many times by my former master. Every single time I had obeyed instantly, terrified of the consequences of disobedience. Now though, my hesitation was something else. As I looked into Marc’s blue eyes, I felt a little shy and very eager to please.  
    The jogging bra came off. Before he could instruct me, I hooked my fingers around the waistband of my track pants, pushing them down along with my panties. Stepping out of them, I looked at him. “What next?” I was astonished that my voice was steady.
    “Next time,” he chided, “wait for permission to take off each garment.” He smiled. “I do like that you are in a hurry, Rachel. Come here.”
    I took a step forward and my knees bumped against him. He got to his feet smoothly. His hands slid up the sides of my hips, locking around my waist. I squealed as he lifted me and set me down on the glass-topped table in front of us. I lay there on my back, my legs dangling off the edges, struggling not to giggle. “What are you doing?” I squeaked.
    “What do you think?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. He sat back down between my legs and his hands closed around my knees. “Spread your legs for me, Rachel.”
    It wasn’t a request. It was a demand and I complied instantly, shivering in anticipation as I did so. No one had ever done this to me and I was deeply, profoundly glad that the first thing this gorgeous man did was an act that would be untainted by any painful memories.
    He bent his head forward with a growl