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Her tongue coddles my earlobe, and I feel myself turning into mud all over her. No. I have to resist. I have to push away from her inviting embrace. “I want to slowly strip you and bite every part of your body. I want to make you suck whatever I’ve got at the moment until you choke on everything I give you.” Okay, honey… okay… “I want to spank your pretty ass until it’s so pink you can’t sit for a week. Then I want to bend you down, listening to you shriek in ecstasy into my pillow as I fuck you from behind, your tight cunt growing tighter until you draw me in so deep that I can’t help but be mesmerized into infernal ecstasy. Then make you clean up our mess while you call me Mistress and I admire my handiwork.”

My brain is gone. I don’t even know what to say.

“Does that sound good, Katie?”

She knows my answer. She knew it before she started describing that shit. Even though my body is shivering at the images, at the way her voice spills into me and fills my chest with adrenaline, I say the first thing that comes to my mind.

“I don’t think I’d like that.” It sounds suffocating. Demeaning.

“No? Then I guess it can’t happen. I’m also not going to do anything you’re thinking of right now. Let me guess. Strap-ons and calling me a bad girl?”

She’s not making fun of me. She knows how a Domme like me rolls. I don’t really do humiliation, but I can be a harsh Mistress depending on the sub’s wants. Ira wouldn’t want that. If she were a sub, she’d want me to make her worship me. That’s what I want, anyway.

To feel like a queen.

A goddess.

Not a serf. The one without the power.

Lots of women love that shit. I get it on a superficial level. But it’s not me. I get off hardest and feel freest when I’m calling all the shots. The thought of anyone, even Ira, holding me down and pounding me until I scream a safe word makes me nervous, not exhilarated.

Even so, I want her. I want to feel her mouth on my body, her arms wrapped around me and filling me with that same warmth from before. It shouldn’t be too much to ask…

Maybe…

In my drunken haze, I suggest something that I will come to regret in due time. Yet right now it sounds so good, why the hell wouldn’t I suggest it?

“Let’s have a friendly wager,” I say, stroking her thigh with my fingertips. I want her pussy on my mouth, but only if I get to tie her hands behind her chair. “About the presentation.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. One of us will lose… but if one of us wins? Then we get something from the other person.”

“Go on.”

I open my mouth and seal my fate. “The loser has to submit to the other person for one night. Whatever the other person wants. Safeword for only extreme shit.”

Ira considers me for a long time. “You would submit to me?” She sounds genuinely surprised. And intrigued. Her hand is dangerously close to my slit.

“Would you submit to me if you lose?”

Her smile is ridiculous. It reminds me of Lara’s when she thinks she’s already won. Not so fast, honey. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.

Ira picks up one of her empty glasses, the ice not yet melted. “Deal.”

I hold up my glass. “Deal.”

The glasses clink together. I have no idea what I’ve done.

Chapter 15

Ira

The woman is insane. Absolutely, unequivocally insane.

Who? Oh, no, not Kathleen. She was drunk, not insane.

No, I’m talking about Lara Anderssen, who has informed Kathleen and me that if we woo the council, “we’ll” be forking over $40,000,000 to buy The Ace.