The crop grazes my armpit, causing an involuntary spasm in my elbow, and my left hand lurches off the table.

Clive immediately slaps the back of my hand, this time harder than before. I cringe, biting my lip at the sharp, stinging pain. I rest my hand back down but it trembles on the table’s surface.

He moves his touch up my waist, slowly crawling around my body to rest just beneath my breasts. Warm pleasure tingles me from the places he touches, completely neutralizing any pain my brain thinks I felt. I can hardly even remember it.

I look at my hands. Steady as rocks.

Clive slides his boot between my feet on the floor and nudges them apart. I put my weight in my hands and shift my legs wider.

“More,” he demands.

I take another step out, putting tension on my skirt.

“If I go too far, say wait,” he says, reminding me. “If you want to stop, say stop.”

My teeth chatter. “What are you going to do?”

His hand falls from my belly and slips down my leg to hook the hem of my dress.

The riding crop touches my ankle and I flinch, quickly remembering that it’s still there. He slides it up my calf to my knee, tapping between them twice as it inches underneath.

“Clive?”

The crop slaps on the table next to my hand. “Mr. Snow,” he corrects me.

“What are you going to do, Mr. Snow?” I ask again.

He pinches my chin and draws my head back. “I’m going make you move your hands,” he whispers.

“Yeah, but how—”

His lips envelope mine and I drop the question. The heat of his kiss makes my ankles sway and I lose all sense of what I was doing. I kiss him back, reaching upward to touch him on the back of his neck.

He snatches my wrist in mid-air and slams it back down to the table before I even realize my mistake.

I brace myself for the quick sting of his crop. With pinched eyes, I wait, counting the seconds until it’s all over with but... it doesn’t happen.

I crack one eye open as the crop’s tip grazes the back of my guilty hand.

“That’s how,” Clive whispers in my ear. “I’m going to touch you, Ms. Payne. I’m going to touch every inch of your body just so I can say I have.”

I take a gasping breath. “Are you going to...”

The question falls but he figures out the rest of it. “Would you try to stop me if I did?” he asks.

I quiver, feeling his front pressed against my back and the hard bulge digging into my ass.

“I want you to think,” he says. “Think of all the things that could happen right now, every single possibility. I want you to tell me what you wouldn’t allow. These are your hard limits.”

I furrow my brow. My mind is running a mile a second. I can hardly keep up with my pulse. “Can I have an example?” I ask.

“Can I put a knife to your skin and draw blood?”

“No!” I cringe. “God, no!”

“Well, that’s a hard limit. No blood play.”

“Obviously.” I pause. “Do people really do that?”

“Yes.”

I peek back. “Do you like to do that?”

He shakes his head and I sigh with relief. “Not my thing,” he adds. “Can I smack you? Let’s say the face?”

“No, I don’t want to stir up questions,” I answer. “Nothing on the face.”

He lays an open palm on my rear. “How about here?”

I tilt my head as my skin tingles. “That should be okay, I think...”

His hand falls away. “Keep thinking as I touch you. Let your mind wander, find your limits. If you think of something you’re unsure about and might want to try, that’s a soft limit.”

I nod. “All right.”

He slaps the back of my hand with the crop. “That was for earlier.”

I chuckle, feeling the pleasant pain in my wrist. “I was hoping you forgot...”

“Nope.”

“Damn.”

He goes quiet and guides my face forward again. I stand firm, planting my palms and fingers against the table, and wait for further instruction.

Clive takes a short step back and I feel his eyes wander from my head to my toes. He taps the crop lightly against the left side of my neck and my mind flashes with possibility. His lips there, kissing me. Biting me. The crop glides up to my ear and travels along my hairline. He takes his other hand and lays it at the base of my neck, fanning out his fingers before combing them along my scalp. He gathers my hair in his fingers, gently pulling until the taut strands hurt.

He waits here, studying me for a reaction.

Say wait for too much. Stop to stop...

But I want more.

“Mr. Snow,” I say.

He gives me a quick, hard tug, yanking my head back.

I yelp in surprise, fighting the urge to twist and bring my hands up. My right wrist slips anyway and I grow tense, hoping he didn’t notice.

The crop smacks my fingertips. Guess not.

The pain fades as his lips caress my neck. His wild and warm breath fires up along my ear, sending goosebumps in all directions and I have to practically turn to stone to keep my hands from moving. A moan escapes the back of my throat and I sink a little further into his touch.

The crop moves down my neck and over my shoulder blades, coming to a stop at the back of my dress. Clive pinches the zipper and slowly guides it down. My instincts tell me to stop it before it falls off my breasts — but that’s what he wants me to do. He wants me to raise my hands and grab it so he can punish me again.

I ignore the instinct, letting it fall, and I hear that same, amused grunt fall from his lips. He lays the crop down on the table beside me but I don’t celebrate just yet. His hands start at my shoulders and move down my bare back. I close my eyes, feeling relaxed as his fingertips massage into me all the way down to the small of my back.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he says.

I smile. I can’t hold it in. “Thank you,” I say.

“Your skin...” He moves his palms up and down my spine. “It’s like silk.”

“Uh-huh...” I bite my lip, my nether churning with heat.

“I want to turn it pink.”

He pushes the dress and it drops to my ankles.

“Would you like that?” he asks. He kisses the back of my neck, leaning in until I feel that thick bulge press into me again.

I sigh, the heat in me almost too much to control. “Yes,” I whisper.

He snatches the crop off the table, making me flinch. “How about a brand?” he asks, tapping my lower back with the crop. “Just burn my initials right here...”

“No,” I say.

He chuckles. “As I expected. Have you thought of anything?”

“I can barely think at all,” I admit.

“Why not?”

“Uh...” I clear my throat. “I’m standing in front of you practically naked... and you clearly have an erection.”

“Does it bother you?”

“No, it’s just... distracting.”

“I can control my urges, Ms. Payne. Can you?”

“Yes,” I say, playing it cool. “I can totally control my—”

His hand pushes between my thighs from behind and I tense up.

“Are you sure about that?” he asks.

I open my mouth but my words fade as his hand slowly inches upward. I lurch and my sweaty palms slip beneath my weight. I quickly straighten back up but I receive a hard rap on the knuckles for it and Clive chuckles softly to himself.

His hand reaches my panties. He lays a single finger along my crotch, lined up perfectly with my pussy lips.

“You’re wet,” he says.

“Yeah...”

“Were you expecting sex tonight?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t know what to expect.”

His finger moves back, gliding from my wetness to my ass. “Would you like me to fuck you, Ms. Payne?” he growls in my ear.

I hold my breath, feeling it rattling my lungs. My hands tremble and my toes curl. Blood pounds in my head as saliva builds beneath my tongue.

“Ms. Payne?”

“Yes,” I answer.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mr. Snow.”

Clive forces me forward, bending me over the table. My hands push forward but I don’t receive a whip for it. He lays the crop on the table and reaches for his zipper instead.

I lose myself, closing my eyes and counting the moments until I get what my body needs. I want him so badly, I could scream. I just might have to as soon as I feel him inside of me.

Oh, god. How much I want to scream.

Clive hooks my panties and pulls them down, exposing my ass completely. He guides the tip of his hard cock along my aching wetness, but he doesn’t push inside. He remains in control, content on teasing me instead.

“Is this what you want?” he asks.

I nod.

“Say it.”

His cock brushes against my anus and I let out a moan. “Yes, I want it.”

“You want it like this?” he asks. “You want me to fuck you, use you like some object?”

No. No, I don’t. I feel a resistance deep inside. I don’t want to be used. I don’t want to be thought of like that. I don’t want him to think of me like that...

“No,” I say.

He lays a warm hand on my back. “Good girl.”

I feel him take a step back and he stuffs his erection back into his pants.

“Stand up,” he tells me.

I push off the table, placing my palms back where they were from the start. “You don’t want to fuck me?” I ask.

“I do,” he says. “But not like this.”

I twist back to look over my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Many Doms enjoy the view of their subs that way. Bent over and helpless.”

I catch a solemn expression on his face out of the corner of my eye. “And you don’t?” I ask.

“I have nothing against it as a rule, I just prefer something a little more... personal. When I do it that way, it always feels like I’m taking something from them, but when it’s like this—”

He grabs my arm and yanks me around to face him. With one quick movement, he hoists me up to sit on the table and spreads my legs. I forget all about my hands and the rules. I stare into his deep eyes instead, falling head over heels with every word he says.

“Like this,” he continues, “I can see every part of you. Your eyes, your breasts, your pussy… I’m not taking anything from you. You’re giving yourself to me.”

He cups my cheek and my tongue twitches as his thumb swipes my bottom lip. “Do you want to give yourself to me, Ms. Payne?” he whispers.

My chest heaves up and down. “Yes,” I say, my voice shaking.

Clive kisses me. His tongue touches my lips, begging to be let in. I part them and we taste each other. My senses explode as his hands roam my body and I moan from the depths of my gut.

I run my hands up his body but he grasps my wrists and forces me down onto my back. He pins me against the table, his mouth dropping from my neck to my breasts. He digs his teeth into my nipples and I twinge from the heightened sensitivity. Christ, I could come right now, just looking down into his blue eyes as he licks my tits and touches my curves.

He stands up and pulls me closer to the table’s edge. I gasp at the feel of his tented erection against my thigh. The tip pokes out of the elastic of his briefs, covering in pre-cum. I want to slide to the floor and lick him clean but I don’t dare move from the position he put me in.

He looks down my body, admiring every inch of skin presented in front of him. I realize once again that I’m naked, completely naked, but I don’t care at all.

Clive slides his hand into his briefs and he strokes himself. “What are you on?” he asks.

I blink. “What?”

“Birth control,” he says.

“Oh — the pill.”

“When were you last tested?”

“Uh...” I wince, trying hard to think of anything other than his huge cock pounding me. “Summer? All clear.”

“Have you been with anyone since?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He lays a hand on my upper thigh, his thumb just an inch away from my throbbing clit. I bite my lip as my body surges with sweet, warm anticipation.

A hard knock strikes twice on the door.

Clive pauses, briefly glancing over his shoulder with a soft smile. “Time’s up,” he says, stepping back.

“What?” I ask.

He extends his hand for mine and I take it. “Time’s up,” he says again, pulling me up to sit. “Sorry, Ms. Payne. We’ll have to finish this another time.”

I blink. “But...”

Clive zips his pants and grabs the riding crop off the table. I watch him walk to the closet and he slides it right back into its place on the door.

“What?” I ask again.

He returns and bends over to grab my dress and panties. “Only paid for an hour.”

My jaw drops. “It’s been an hour?!”

“Yeah.”

“Nuh-uh!”

He laughs and hands me my clothes. “Hop up so I can wipe down the table.”

I obey. Reluctantly.

While Clive grabs a towel and cleaner from beneath the sink in the kitchenette, I slide my panties back on. I shudder in disappointment as I step into my dress and guide the zipper up slowly. My arms feel weak and exhausted from the all the flexing and flinching on the table.

Clive cleans up and returns the supplies to their place.

“What do we do now?” I ask.

He grabs his jacket from the closet. “Now... I go back to work.”

“Seriously?”

He lays a hand on my shoulder and turns me toward the door. “Sunset to 2 AM with an hour break... which I just took.”

I frown with suspicion. “How many of your breaks do you spend up here?”

He smirks. “Not many.”

“Wait, you work until two here, come into the office at nine, leave at five… and come right back here?”

“And on weekends, I work at a gym nearby.” He slides his jacket on. “What, you never work multiple jobs before?”

I turn my lips down in sympathy. “No,” I answer truthfully.

“Count your blessings, Nora,” he says, pinching my chin. He leaves a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Go home. Get some rest. Start thinking more about your limits.”

I scoff. “Yeah, like I can sleep after that.”

“You don’t have to sleep,” he says. “But you can’t stay here.”

I raise a brow. “Oh, really?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to play with anyone else.”

His voice is hard and strong, just short of an order, but I like it all the same.

“Are you the jealous type, Mr. Snow?” I ask.

“No, just possessive.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Okay, that sounded a little scary. I must have turned pure white or something because Clive exhales slowly and relaxes his face.

“I just don’t want you to be taken advantage of,” he says. “You’re new around here. There are plenty of people down there who would try something outside of your comfort zone.”

I nod. “All right.”

He leans in again to kiss my cheek but I turn toward him at the last second to steal a kiss on the lips. We let it linger much longer than the quick peck it was meant to be, breathing each other in.

Clive breaks away from me. “Come on,” he says, striding to the door.

There are a few people quietly chatting in the hall by the stairwell and they give Clive a quick nod as we pass.

My chest tightens. “Wait,” I whisper to Clive, “they couldn’t hear us in there, right?”

He smiles. “No, the whole floor is soundproofed.”

I sigh. “Thank god.”