Katalina Ferth desires sensual release and a sweet pet to train, one that will obey her every command, but the sexy singer she stumbles upon might be more than she can control. Still, she cannot resist the chance to make him quiver beneath her touch. Desire for the dark-haired beauty who offers to teach him how to be a good sub sends shivers through John, but her demands unsettle him more than he cares to admit. Left with nowhere to run and nothing to hide behind except the power of her gentle command, can he be all that she needs without losing himself, or will he become nothing more than a temporary plaything to be left behind with the rally rubbish?
He made it. Even though she had set the time as a test, Katalina had not wanted him to fail.
“Come in, puppy.” Once she closed the door, she ran her hand up his slender back, relishing the slight dampness that said he’d run to avoid displeasing her. His beautiful baritone still floated in her head, the plea for domination irresistible. “Undress and come down the hall.”
She offered nothing more. Merely walked away to see if he would obey without question. Then smiled with satisfaction when she heard the rustle of his clothing as it fell to the floor. Hurry, my pup. Don’t make me wait.
By the time he joined her in the bathroom, she was ready for him. A razor and shaving cream rested on the counter. Hot water ran in the sink and a fluffy washcloth lay at the ready.
Unfortunately, he was not naked as instructed. Navy blue boxer briefs clung to his thighs and cock like a second skin. “Did I ask you to keep you underwear on?”
A blush tinted his fair skin so adorably she almost forgave his slip. “I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
She should enforce the use of Mistress, but his preferred term of respect rolled from his tongue with aching sweetness. He reached for the offending clothing, but she stayed his hand. Perhaps he needed them to quell his fear of the unknown. “I’ll remove them when I’m ready.” She wet the wash cloth and beckoned him closer. The hot water stung her hands.
When she laid the cloth against his chest, he sucked in a breath but didn’t pull away. She wet his chest and stomach, paying special attention to where the hair grew thickest.
Tossing the rag aside, she squirted a generous mound of shaving cream into her palm and smoothed it over his pecs. The cool menthol foam contrasted sharply with the heat, and his breath hissed again. Her body tightened in anticipation of when she would make him scream his pleasure. With infinite care she scraped the hair from his body, washing away the cream to confirm she’d left nothing behind. Once his chest was bare, she repeated the process on the few hairs at the small of his back before turning her attention to his underwear. Taking a pair of scissors from the drawer, she slit the fabric up each side and allowed the boxers to fall away. Nothing to hide behind anymore, puppy.