“What the hell did she send you? Is that the whole dress?” I’m ready to kill Windsor.
Short. Tight. Red.
It’s traffic-stopping.
In all reality, the dress is no worse than what you see any night of the week in the LA clubs, but on Greer, it looks sinful. I want to wrap her up in a nun’s habit so no other man can see all her soft, creamy skin. Her dark hair is pulled up, leaving her neck bare and vulnerable.
“You don’t like it?” Greer turns in the mirror, tugging the short skirt of the dress down so it covers a few inches past the curve of her ass.
“Fuck. I love it, but I still want to kill her. She knew exactly what she sent you, and she did it to see if I’d let you out of the house like that.”
Greer turns, and her anxiety about the dress is clear on her face. I’m not helping matters with my outburst.
“It’s not that bad, is it? I mean, it’s not like you can see anything.”
She’s right, you can’t, but the length of the dress and the color makes me want to bend her over and pull the skirt up before I paddle her ass until it matches the red of the fabric.
“You look beautiful, Greer. But I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you while you’re wearing it.”
And dammit, she’s my woman, so I don’t have to keep my hands off her.
I think back to the games we played in Belize, and how hot they were for both of us. For me, there was no pretending. I like being in control, and Greer responded like she was born to it. But is she game to make it a permanent thing in our relationship?
“I wouldn’t expect you to keep your hands off me.”
Her flirty tone gives me the opening I need. “When we were in Belize, you let me take the lead. And if we were still there, pretending no rules applied, I’d tell you to take off your panties and hand them to me.” I step closer to her. “What I need to know is how you’d react if I told you to do that here. Now. To let me take the lead again.”
Greer bites her lip, her brain working overtime. I imagine she’s flipping through the memories just like I am and trying to decide if she can take this chance with me.
What she says now will tell me whether she trusts me yet or not.
I open my mouth to tell her that there’s no pressure, she can think about it, but she beats me with her response.
“Yes. I want that.”
“Are you sure?”
She stares up at me with those dark eyes, and I can read the excitement in them. “Yes, I’m positive.”
“Then take off your panties and hand them to me.”
Her pupils dilate at the order, and she slips into the role like a seasoned actress. “This dress is way too short for that. I’ll end up flashing everyone when I get out of the car, and it’ll be like that Britney debacle, but worse, because it’ll be me.”
I knew Greer was perfect before, but this just sealed it. I beat back the smile tugging at my mouth and see just how far she’s willing to go.
“Then I guess you better keep your legs closed like a good little girl so no one sees that pussy. Because it’s mine, and I’ll spank your ass if you show it to another man.”
“You can’t be serious.” She might sound like she’s protesting, but without a bra, her nipples are pressing against the fabric of the bodice.
“You like it. Now, take those panties off and hand them over.”
Greer is practically squirming where she stands in the black stiletto sandals Windsor sent along with the dress.
“If they aren’t in my hand in ten seconds, you’re going to be wearing a plug all night, and instead of enjoying the party, you’re going to be focused on keeping your ass tight so it stays in.”
Her dark eyes go wide. “You— What— I—” She stammers words that make no sense.
“Ten,” I say, starting the count.
Greer stays still, arms by her side, her face the picture of shock.
“Nine.” I hold out my hand. “Eight.”
She doesn’t move.
“Fuck, baby. My cock is going to be hard all night knowing your ass is filled. Seven.”
Greer shifts into action, reaching up under the dress.
“Pull it up. I want to see that pretty pussy after you take them off.”
She bites her lip but complies, drawing the skirt of the dress up to her waist and revealing a black lace thong.
“Did you get those panties all wet for me?”
Greer peels them down and steps out of them one leg at a time. “Maybe.” Her response is a whisper.
I hold out my hand. “Bring them here. I want to see.” When she doesn’t step toward me, I continue my countdown. “Six.”
Shuffling across the floor, her skirt around her waist, Greer comes to me and places the ball of lace in my hand. I lift it to my face.
“Naughty girl. Show me that tight little pussy. I want to see how wet it is.”
Greer’s pupils dilate further as she stares at me, absorbing my command. She shifts to spread her legs, and I shake my head. “Turn around. Bend over. Spread your ass with both hands. I want to see everything, you dirty girl.”
I squeeze the soaked lace in my fist, waiting and wondering if she’ll keep following my lead.
Her nipples bead up perfectly against the red fabric, and I promise myself they’ll be in my mouth tonight. I might even clamp them. I think she’d love it.
“Five.” I continue my countdown.
“But—”
“Four. You want a plug up your ass? All you have to do is ask, baby.”
Greer spins around on shaky heels, and I catch her elbow to steady her.
“Bend over. Don’t make me tell you again.”
She listens, bending forward until her ass juts toward me obscenely. But it’s not obscene enough. I want it all from her.
“Now, reach back and spread your ass apart. I want to see it all. I want to see that pussy dripping down your legs.”
Greer’s sharp inhale of breath is the only sound in the room as she follows my orders and reaches back. Her hands pull her ass cheeks apart, showing me everything I want to see. Tight little asshole waiting to be fucked again. A dripping-wet pussy I can’t wait to get my mouth on.
I reach out and slide two fingers through the slickness. Jesus, she’s soaked. I pull my fingers back and step around her far enough to hold them up to her lips.
“Clean up the mess you made on my hand.”
Her eyes dart up to mine, almost hidden by the shadow of her dark lashes.
“What?”
“You heard me. Suck my fingers clean.”
When Greer’s mouth drops open, I slide them between her lips. “Suck.”
My dirty little girl follows orders, her tongue laving every drop of her sweet juice.
“How do you taste, baby girl?” I ask as I pull my fingers free. “Do you like it?”
When she doesn’t answer immediately, I tilt her chin up so I can see into her eyes.
“Give me words. I want to hear exactly how you feel about sucking your slick cream off my fingers.”
She bites down on her lip, and I can’t help but taunt her more. “If you don’t give me words, I’ll give you something else to keep your mouth busy, and then you can tell me how the taste of my cum compares to yours.”
Greer sucks in an unsteady breath. “It’s tart. Tangy. But not bad. Kind of . . . good.”
My grin feels feral. “It’s fucking delicious. You have the sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted, and I think I’m overdue for a taste right now.”
I move behind her, gripping both cheeks of her ass with my hands. “Keep them spread wide. If you let them slip, you’ll get the plug, and you’ll have to explain to Windsor why you’re squirming under this tiny little dress.”