Dark Xanadu by Sindra van Yssel Page A

them open. “Yes,” she said. “Anywhere.”
    “You’re not to wear panties again in my presence. Do you understand, Angela?”
    She nodded. They weren’t much of a barrier anyway, not when he so easily nudged them aside to slide two fingers into her.
    “When I lift your skirt I want to see everything, Nothing held back.”
    “E-even if we were out there, and not in your office?” She tilted her head to indicate the rest of the club, but she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. She wasn’t an exhibitionist, she was pretty sure of that.
    “If we were. You’re not ready for that, yet. I won’t ask you for anything you’re not ready to handle. But even if we were out there, yes, I expect your obedience.”
    Obedience. Now there was a word she didn’t much like at all. But from this man, who expected it, it was hot. And the fingers wiggling in her pussy were rapidly short circuiting her brain. “Yes, Sir.”
    “You’re not a pushover. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t decide to submit, when you want to. In fact, quite the contrary. To submit takes strength. It takes a force of will, not a weakness. Can you feel that?”
    His fingers started pumping in and out of her, and she struggled to hold her position. He hadn’t asked her to move, after all. It did take will, she realized. He was right.
    “I’m not into pain, not for its own sake. What I am into, Angela, is very intense states of mind. And sometimes that’s aided by very intense physical feelings. But if I don’t think it will intensify your pleasure, I won’t be doing it to you. Do you understand?”
    Angela nodded. “But what about your pleasure?”
    “My pleasure doesn’t come from causing other people pain. For some people out there it does, and hopefully they get matched up with someone who enjoys receiving. But that’s not me, and I’m glad it’s not you, either.”
    He pulled her T-shirt up, bunching it an inch above her breasts. Her bra was so transparent that it didn’t really conceal anything, but she was past the point of embarrassment. She hoped he didn’t think her tummy was too fat.
    If he did, he didn’t show it. “You have wonderful curves, Angela. Seeing you gives me pleasure. Feeling you inside…that gives me more pleasure.”
    It was doing pretty well by her, too. Little jolts were going through her body each time his fingers pushed in their farthest. Physically, he wasn’t doing anything she couldn’t do for herself, although his fingers were bigger and longer and rougher. But the fact that he was doing it—the fact that she was letting him—made her almost ready to explode.
    His other hand felt her breasts through the lace—lace that now seemed rough against her taut nipples. He circled inward, rolling her right nipple between finger and thumb in a way that was almost but not quite painful. He seemed to know how much she could take, squeezing and pinching in a way that made her nipple burn with pleasure.
    At some point she had started rocking her hips in time with his thrusts, urged on by a primal instinct she wasn’t conscious of. A single stroke of his thumb across her clit sent her over, making her whole body shake with the force of her sudden ecstasy. She felt as if she were melting, a formless liquid in his hands.
    His hands withdrew, and he smiled at her as he stood up. It took her a moment to catch her breath. If it hadn’t been for the smile in his eyes as well as on his lips, she would have thought she had displeased him.
    “You respond very well to letting me have my way with you,” he said, his voice soft. “But submission is more than passivity. It means doing what you’re told, not just allowing things to happen around you.”
    After that wonderful orgasm, she was happy enough to do anything. He’d probably want a blowjob, which was fine with her. She licked her lips at the thought.
    “Oh, very tempting,” he said, apparently reading her thoughts. “Very, very tempting. But for