Daddy Dom and the Bad Girl - Page 2

“I like feeling your cock,” I say boldly.

His hand moves up my hip to my belly, and he rests it there.

“I like feeling your bottom grinding against me,” he says.

“You’re making me wet with all this dirty talk,” I tell him.

We’re both watching the scene in front of us, but we’re sort of making our own little encounter now. Peter is the kind of Dominant partner who will push me if we ever play together. He’ll push my boundaries and he’ll make me re-evaluate everything I know and believe. He’ll believe in me, and he’ll take care of me, but he won’t be afraid to get me out of the zone I want to be in.

I shouldn’t play with him.

I shouldn’t turn around and drop to my knees for him.

I shouldn’t beg him to take off my clothes and fuck me until I scream.

I shouldn’t do any of these things.

But I want to.

I turn around and look up at him. He seems a little surprised, but then a mischievous smile spreads on his face. I hook my arms around his neck, and I push up on my toes, and I kiss him. I kiss him as much as I want to, and he kisses me right back. He grabs my chin and directs the kiss in a way that pleases him, and then he kisses me just a little bit more.

Yes, I think playing with Peter is a very, very bad idea.

It’s a dangerous idea.

But it’s a risk I just might have to take.

Chapter One

Heather

Peter Montgomery is not the kind of man you say “no” to.

At least, that’s what I’ve been told.

And since when did I ever do what I’ve been told?

I guess that’s what makes me a bratty sort of submissive. I’m not afraid to take what I want. I’m not afraid to stand up for the things that turn me on. I’m not afraid to backtalk the one man who could tan my hide for it.

And I guess that’s how I ended up standing on Peter Montgomery’s doorstep on a Saturday night in August.

I probably should have said “no” to his offer. It was a bit ridiculous, to be honest, but maybe the reason no one says “no” to Peter isn’t because he’s scary, but because his offers are too good to resist.

At least, I think that’s what my problem is.

When he approached me at the sex club we both play at, I figured he’d ask me on a date or to play with him sometime casually. I didn’t expect his offer. Not only was it precise and specific, but it involved cash.

A lot of cash.

Professionally, I’m not a hooker. Far from it. Besides, Peter said tonight wouldn’t involve sex unless I begged him for it. Cocky, much? Yeah, he’s the kind of guy who knows exactly how good-looking he is and he definitely uses that to his advantage.

But I’m definitely not going to beg Peter Montgomery for anything.

Least of all, sex.

I look up at the mansion in front of me. It’s definitely a mansion. There’s no skirting around that. It’s not a

big house or a large single-family home. Nope. Fucking mansion. Rich dudes. For fuck’s sake. The King of the Dungeon also happens to be incredibly wealthy. I probably should have suspected as much, but I didn’t.

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