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I’d hired a decorator for my condo, and once she left, I packed up half the random junk and decor and put it in the trash. Clutter bugged the hell out of me, and I liked that while Rebecca’s home was cozy and warm, decorated in grays and blues, it wasn’t overly filled with faux vintage books and candles and pointless balls that sat in bowls you’d never use and didn’t need and just made dusting a pain in the ass. Not that I dusted, either. My housekeeper, Gloria, did all that for me every Thursday along with my grocery shopping.

I met Rebecca in her living room and handed her the glass of water.

She took it with hands that were still trembling. “Thank you.”

I sat down on a suede gray chair that faced her and leaned back, relaxing my arms on the armrests.

The only way to get rid of her fear was to begin.

“Kneel at my feet when you’re ready to get started.”

As far as commands went, it was an easy one. She still hesitated, eyes popping wide before she looked where I wanted her to—at my feet, not my eyes.

When she didn’t move and didn’t drink her water, I spread my legs wider. “You can kneel at my feet or in between my legs, Rebecca, but one way or another, we’re going to get started. The location is yours to choose.”

Between my legs, though, would be glorious. It’d give her a direct line to my hardening dick. If I was an asshole, I’d adjust myself, show her how much just looking at her trim and toned legs were turning me on. With the short dress, I had a great view of them.

When she still didn’t move, I continued. “Or you can say red and I can leave. Don’t forget the choice to submit is always yours.”

“But while I’m submitting, it’s your way or no way.”

“Yes.” I tapped my fingers on the chair, letting her see my growing impatience. She understood enough to know she was stalling fruitlessly. “And if you choose not to kneel, I can spread you over my knees for disobeying and disrespecting. Last chance to make the choice.”

That lit a fire under her. She scampered to the side of the chair, and dropped to her knees, one at a time, setting the glass of water on the table next to her while she moved.

“Is this okay, Ben—Mr. Ashby?”

She’d remembered. On her knees, she sat back on her heels, like she knew exactly what I wanted. The hem of her dress rode up to the tops of her thighs. If I leaned down, I’d finally get to know what color panties she was wearing. Her hands were on her knees, palms up and I grinned.

“You’ve spoken to Miranda about this quite a bit, haven’t you?”

She nodded.

“You look beautiful. For reference, though, when I have my subs kneel, they do it naked and with their knees further apart so I can see their pussy whenever I want.”

She jerked in response and I settled my hand on top of her head, not pushing, just holding her steady. “And before you say anything,” I said, dropping my voice. “You’ve pleased me Rebecca. For your sake, I’ll go slow tonight. I’m simply letting you know my preference. But you’ve done well. Thank you for not safe wording.”

She shivered, goose bumps popped on her arms and I resisted the urge to dig my fingers into her scalp. For someone so hesitant, she was awfully turned on.

“Tell me, Rebecca.” I massaged her scalp to calm her. And to touch her. Damn I wanted my hands on her ass. “When you’re like this at my feet, kneeling, how do you feel?”

“Not as uncomfortable as I thought, Mr. Ashby, but still weird.”

“And if I tell you that you here, at my feet, waiting to please me makes me hard as cement, how does that make you feel?”

“Jesus,” she whispered. “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do. Tell me. Are you wet? Are you thinking about how turned on I am by this?”

Her throaty, raw and breathless voice cracked. “Yes. Yes, I’m wet, sir.”

Sir.Holy shit. Never had that one simple word done so much to me. It slammed into my chest and my fingers dug into her hair like I’d been trying to resist. Hell. This woman.

“Good girl. Thank you for your honesty. Are you ready to continue?”

“Can I ask—”

“We’ll do whatever I say. That’s what will happen next.”