Page 11 of Stand Your Ground

He was hot — even if he felt like a stone in my shoe half the time. I knew he had a body sculpted by years of playing professional hockey under that suit of his, and any hetero woman — me included — would be excited to have all-access to peruse it.

This was the buzz being in control gave me. The wine paled in comparison to the kind of high that came from knowing I could do whatever I wanted to this willing man sitting across from me.

“It’s not about possessiveness,” I clarified. “I have no intention of having any sort of relationship with you past being your professor. This is about teaching you how to pleasure a woman — and how to get her in the position where she would even agree to let you try. But that clause is for health reasons. Which brings us to the next point.”

Carter flipped the page, then read aloud again. “All physical contact and training activities are contingent on the completion of a full STD panel, updated within the past fourteen days, as well as a physical exam to ensure the participant is cleared for rigorous activity.”

He barked out a laugh, his grin wide as he looked up at me.

When I didn’t mirror the sentiment, his smile fell.

“You’re serious?” He blinked. “I mean, I get the STD part, but I play professional hockey. I think I’m more than cleared for rigorous activity.”

“I think you’ll find that some of our scenes will vastly outpace three periods of skating around on the ice, Rookie.”

I smirked, tapping the next part of the contract.

“And you’ll see here that I am on birth control, but just to be extra cautious, we will avoid sexual intercourse whenever I am near my ovulation window.”

“You really thought of everything.” Carter shook his head, but he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip at the same time, his eyes alight with curiosity. “Fine. I’ll get into the doctor first thing.”

“Good boy,” I praised.

His nostrils flared, and this time, I couldn’t help myself.

I leaned forward, abandoning my wine glass on the table before my hand snaked beneath its surface. I found his knee, sliding my index finger over the smooth, luxurious fabric of his slacks before I walked my fingertips up along the seam.

Carter kept his gaze on mine, feigning that he wasn’t aroused or scared or interested in the slightest, but his body betrayed him in every way. He slouched a little in his chair, his thick thighs widening to allow me better access as I slowly trailed my touch higher.

“You like when I call you a good boy,” I whispered. “Don’t you, Rookie?”

He wet his lips, refusing to answer. I slid my palm over his hard cock with a firm pressure, enough to make him groan and rock into my touch, his head falling back and eyes fluttering shut.

“Say it.”

“I like it,” he breathed.

He was big. Even through his slacks, I could tell. I wouldn’t have cared either way — it was more about what he could do with his cock rather than the size of it. But it’d be more fun for me to play with a well-endowed student, and inside, I was salivating at the thought.

On the outside, I was a cold, level-faced Domme.

“You likewhat?”

I wrapped my hand around his shaft.

And then I squeezed, hard, tight enough to make Carter transition from a panting moan into a wince and hiss.

“I like when you call me a good boy.”

“What’s that?” I squeezed a bit harder.

“I like when you call me a good boy!”

I grinned, releasing him, but not before I rewarded him with a soothing stroke. He was still panting as I sat back in my chair, reaching for my wine glass.

“Then let’s finish this, and perhaps I’ll consider bending that doctor-approval rule in order to have a little fun tonight.”

Carter looked as desperate as I wanted him to be as he quickly scanned the rest of the pages, and then he scribbled his signature fast and messy before sliding the pages to me.