The First Order [Safeword LLC 1] (Siren Publishing Sensations) by Peyton Elizabeth Page A

underneath the supple fabric of her right shoulder and watched as it slid down her arm. One breast was now exposed and it took every ounce of strength in Becca not to look at Ross to gauge his reaction to the sight. Were they too big or too small? Were her nipples to his liking? She wasn’t quite sure what his tastes were in regards to the size of a woman’s breasts.
    “Do I need to remind you of my title, Rebecca?”
    Becca’s heart skipped a beat at her mistake. “No…Sir. My safe word is red, Sir.”
    “Much better, Becca. And if you are uncertain or need an opportunity to compose yourself?”
    “Yellow, Sir.” Becca had answered him as she repeated her actions on her left side, but wasn’t quite sure she didn’t need a moment to compose herself at this moment. The weight of the fabric fell as gravity took over, and the material tumbled to the floor to lie at her feet.
    “Please repeat the safe word that Kennedy provided you that will end this contract.”
    “Monarch, Sir.”
    “Rebecca, where are your eyes?”
    The surprise of her given name made Becca realize she’d been staring at her dress on the ground instead of her hands. She’d been so caught up in answering him appropriately that she’d forgotten her first instruction—keeping her eyes on her hands. Becca immediately brought her eyes up to her hands only to find them clutched underneath her belly button.
    “Th–they were on my dress, Sir.”
    “And what did I tell you to keep your eyes focused on, Rebecca?”
    “My hands, Sir.” Becca couldn’t stop the tremor in her voice. Would he punish her? A stab of fear shot through her. She knew she couldn’t handle pain, yet she didn’t want to disappoint him. The warring emotions were almost too much to handle and she watched as her knuckles whitened against each other. Becca swore to herself that she’d do better in following his instructions. She didn’t want him to stop and take away these feelings that he’d stirred within her. “I’ll do better, Sir.”
    “You’ll be chastised a little later for your infraction, Rebecca. Right now, I’d like you to lower your hands to your sides.”
    Becca felt the stiffness in her knuckles as she loosened her grip. She brought her hands down to her sides, not taking her eyes off of them. Becca’s focus made her conscious of the fact she would have kept them tightly closed. She forced her hands to remain relaxed, feeling the pads of her fingertips brush against her thighs.
    “Now, I want you to look at your right shoulder.” Ross closed the distance between them, walking around so that he was standing directly behind her. She blinked rapidly, trying to resist the urge to look up at his face. “Tell me what you see.”
    “I–I’m not sure I understand, Sir.” Ross’s finger trailed from the curve of her neck, over her shoulder, and down her arm. “It’s my shoulder, Sir.”
    “Your shoulders are sensual cambers scattered with enticing freckles begging to be caressed.” Ross brought his hands underneath her mounds and cupped her breasts, lifting them up until she was spilling over his fingers. “Now tell me what you see.”
    Becca knew she could do better than just saying the word breasts . He wanted something more descriptive. Unfortunately, his touch was distracting her mind from searching for the correct adjectives. “My breasts in your hands are s–sensitive to your touch, Sir.”
    “I like knowing they are sensitive, Becca,” Ross said in a low voice that dripped like rich caramel over her senses. “I see beautifully formed swollen tits bound in creamy flesh. Your taut areolas are soft with miniscule bumps that tighten under the warmth of my touch. Your burgeoning nipples appear magnificent in their eagerness to feel the moisture of my tongue.”
    Becca gave a ragged sigh and struggled to inhale whatever oxygen might be left in the room. Ross seemed to have left none for her. Light perspiration now coated her skin. She’d never