Perfect Temptation (Perfect Fit Book 4)

by KB Alan

  It was a bit disquieting how important that felt already.

  She grabbed the beer and remembered to use the church key that was attached to the fridge with a magnet, before bringing it to him. He had an ereader in his lap, and she made a mental note to ask him what he was reading, next time they were back to just being them.

  “Thank you, Petal.” He took it from her and set it on the table next to him. “Kneel here in front of me.” He’d put one of the throw pillows in front of the couch. He pulled her collar and the lock from next to his leg, where she hadn’t seen it. A little bit of peace flowed through her as she dropped to her knees and kept her head high so he could wrap the orange band around her and secure it closed with a little snick.

  “Now, you’ll sit here, back to the couch. Or, if you prefer, you can do one of those yoga poses where you bend over your thighs and rest your head on the ground. But using the pillow.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  She moved the pillow out of her way and sat down cross-legged next to him. “Sir, may I ask a question?”

  “You may.”

  “Earlier, you told me that if I was kneeling next to you, I could rest my head on your leg. Is that still okay, if I’m sitting down?”

  “It is.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  She adjusted so that his thigh was a perfect pillow, and took a deep breath, thinking about what he’d told her about mindset. She heard him pick up the bottle, set it back down again. Her only instruction was to please him by sitting still and staying quiet.

  Doms were weird. Why was that pleasing?

  She didn’t startle when his hand touched her head, because she’d been hyperaware of his movements. As he smoothed his hand over her hair, she concentrated on the simple pleasure. It was interesting to think of the differences between Dom and sub. She’d never wondered if she might be a top. She supposed there might be some scenario, somewhere, in which she could imagine being a switch. But not by inclination. Although if anyone had asked her what she’d like to be, that would have been her pick. Best of both worlds, right?

  She shifted her butt without moving her head or disturbing Sir’s hand as he continued to sift his fingers through her strands, then smooth it down. Occasionally he moved to cup her shoulder and caress her arm, which was nice, too.

  But what kind of books did he like? She figured him for thrillers. But maybe he was reading a gardening book? Or horror? No, sci-fi, she decided, and wished she’d kept the pillow under her butt.

  Her mind wandered and circled in a way she would readily admit was not the least bit meditative.

  “How are you doing, Petal? Give me a number.”

  Oof. That was tough. She was fine, really. Just sort of bored and not sure if it was okay for her to adjust her sitting position. But certainly nothing that she couldn’t endure to make him happy.

  “Two, Sir,” she finally decided after a minute.

  He didn’t answer, just resumed petting her hair.

  She woke up with a start when Noah barked out her name. She had no idea when she’d fallen asleep. She sat up straight and tried to blink her brain clear.

  Chapter Ten

  Noah hadn’t expected to leave Natalie at his feet for too long. He’d just wanted to give her a taste and have her think through what she did and didn’t like about serving in this fashion.

  He also hadn’t expected her to fall asleep and start gently snoring on his leg.

  He gave her fifteen minutes to rest up a bit, then schooled his voice so his amusement wasn’t evident. On the one hand, it was cute. On the other hand, it gave him an opportunity to punish her. She hadn’t given him a chance for that yet, and he wanted to see what worked, and didn’t work, for her in that arena.

  “Natalie.”

  She jerked upright and looked slowly around herself.

  “Was sleeping on the very small list of things I asked you to do for the next little while?”

  She turned to look at him.

  “No, Sir.” Her lip disappeared between her teeth and her gaze dropped to the ground.

  They’d discussed punishments, of course. He decided the simple, classic spanking was a good starting place.

  “Do you think a punishment is in order?”

  She let her lip go and sighed. “Yes, Sir?”

  He managed to keep his face blank, but it was a struggle. She was so damn cute. “I think five swats over my lap.”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Stand up.”

  She shoved to her feet, not particularly gracefully, but without hesitating.

  He moved over so her head wouldn’t be smashed into the arm of the couch and patted his thighs. She stared at his legs, but didn’t move. Her head had bowed, and her hair swung free, obscuring his view of her face. He tilted so he could see her—and his heart slammed into his chest.

  Her eyes had gone wide and glassy and her breath was coming in tiny pants.

  He surged up and scooped her into his arms, cuddling her cold body against himself. He’d kept an eye on her temperature as she’d sat in front of him, and she’d been fine. Sudden understanding of how stupid he’d been beat at him. He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and got it as much around her as he could without letting her go.

  “Natalie.” One arm holding her closely, he used his free hand to tip her chin so she was looking at his face. Not that she was seeing a damn thing.

  “Natalie,” he repeated, sharply, when she didn’t respond. She blinked, and he started to breathe again. “Petal.”

  She blinked again and her eyes began to clear, confusion, then horror replacing the blank look. “I’m sor—”

  “Uh uh,” he interrupted, laying a finger across her lips. “No apologies. I fucked up. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  “I—I don’t really know what happened.”

  “Tell me what you remember, but with the full understanding that you did nothing at all wrong. Are you comfortable?” He really meant “do you feel safe” but thought that would only confuse her right now.

  Her eyes darted around and she moved her hand, which had been limp against her stomach, to his shirt. Holding it in her fist, she nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. Can you tell me what you remember?”

  “I was sitting on the floor. It was boring, but I was trying to do like you said, think about the right mindset. And then—I guess I fell asleep. You woke me up and decided on spanking. Five times.”

  “How did you feel about that?”

  “I wasn’t excited, because I knew it wouldn’t be like a good kind of spanking, but I was pretty sure I could handle five. I was wondering if you would go light, or hard, or both.”

  He’d been planning on both.

  “And then what?”

  “I’m not sure, really. I think you told me to lay across your lap so you could do the spanking and…I froze. I think. I—I want to apologize again.”

  “Thank you for not doing so.” He couldn’t believe he was smiling again, already, but she really was pretty damn cute. “I’ll say it again. I don’t even mind repeating myself. I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. You didn’t do anything wrong. I triggered a…let’s call it a panic attack, and you were only doing what you were told to do. How, in that scenario, can you be to blame?”

  She frowned. “I didn’t think I’d have a problem being spanked. We talked about it, before this weekend.”

  “We did. You said you’d been paddled before, and bent over a spanking bench, but I didn’t specifically ask you if you’d been spanked on someone’s lap. On a man’s lap, especially.”

  “Oh. My dad, you mean. You think this was about him.” She shivered, and he ran his hand up and down her arm, over the blanket. “He never spanked me. At least not that I remember.”

  “I think it’s just a…generational connotation, if that makes sense. Or societal. The father, the disciplinarian.”

  She frowned. “I think I’m okay n
ow.”

  “Let’s sit a little while longer.” He had to decide if he should still punish her or not. His instinct was not, but he didn’t want her to see this as a failure. And he suspected that she would, no matter what he told her.

  She kept quiet for five minutes, which was fairly impressive. “You’re too cozy, I’m going to fall asleep again,” she warned him.

  “Fair enough. I’ll give you three choices on what we do next.”

  The little line appeared between her eyebrows again.

  “One, you lay over my lap and I spank you five times. Two, you lay over the arm of the couch, and I stand behind you and spank you five times. Three, we move on to the next thing and save your five swats to add to your next punishment. If you make it to the end of the weekend with no further punishments, I’ll be impressed and only give you three.”

  He was hoping the challenge of making it through the rest of the weekend would appeal to her. She narrowed her eyes as she studied him.”

  “What happens if I say your lap, but then I freeze up again?”

  “I hold you like this until you snap out of it and we decide what to do next from there.”

  “Hm.” And then she shocked him by reaching a hand up to his cheek. “I know you don’t really want to, but I would appreciate if we could try your lap again.”

  So much for being an inscrutable Dom. He put his forehead to hers. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

  He lifted up and unwrapped the blanket from around her, helping her to stand. “What number are you at?”

  She hesitated.

  “Don’t fudge,” he warned. “You’ll get a lot worse punishment than a spanking if I think you understate it.”

  “Three, Sir.”

  “All right. I’ll warn you now, if we make it as far as a spanking, I’m going hard on your ass just to feel better about not feeling good about this.” He pretended to glower at her.

  “What?” She laughed, as he’d hoped. “That makes no sense.”

  “Doesn’t have to make sense. I’m the Dom.”

  She snorted, and, without further hesitation, draped herself over his lap, her toes stretched out behind her, her hands flat on the floor.

  Instead of wrapping one hand around her waist, as he’d originally intended, to make her feel secure so she wouldn’t fall off, he rested one hand on her shoulder, and swept the other down her back, over her butt, upper thighs, and back around, until she was breathing steadily again.

  “What’s your number?”

  “Two, Sir.”

  His sweet girl.

  He put his arm across her back, holding her down.

  “What about now?”

  “One, Sir.”

  Fuck, he was going to have to rethink his plan of not pushing her into a relationship. “Good girl, I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” The last word was a bit of a screech, as he surprised her with the first spank. Contrary to what he’d told her, he didn’t go hard. More medium-light. He smoothed his palm over the globe he’d smacked, then gave it another, slightly harder. Then he caught up with her other cheek, in rapid succession. He paused, his hand resting on the first side, feeling her muscles flex and quiver under his palm. Then he gave it one last, harder smack.

  He rolled her over and into his lap and checked her face. Flushed red, eyes dilated, lips parted. Gorgeous.

  She reached out and took his shirt in her hand, though he didn’t think she was even conscious of it. “What’s your number?” he asked.

  “One, Sir.”

  “I’ll let you write in your journal in a minute, but tell me what you think about the spanking. Specifically, over the lap like that?”

  “I know you could have gone harder, and I don’t like getting punished, but I think it was good. I liked that you were holding me while doing it, so thank you for letting me try your lap again. I think that first reaction was just a one-off, I don’t think it will be a problem again.”

  He kissed her nose. “All right. You can get your robe and your journal and come sit on the couch with me. If you want, you can read or knit when you’re done, or we can watch TV.” He reached up to unlock her collar, and she flinched back, then stilled. “No scene for a while.”

  “Okay.” She touched her bare neck, and he checked to see if it was red or chaffed, but it looked fine.

  They ended up on the couch with Natalie on one end, back against the arm, feet nearly in his lap, listening to an audiobook with her earphones in while she knit, and he read. The gentle clicking of the knitting needles was somehow soothing. Her orange satin robe did an amazing job of hiding, yet highlighting, her breasts, and he was having a hard time concentrating on his book.

  In some ways, the day had gone pretty close to how he’d planned. He just hadn’t foreseen finding her so damn tempting. He wanted to reach over and pull her breasts from the robe, let the fabric frame them for his viewing pleasure, but she needed a break. Even more, he wanted to slide between her legs and fill her up with his cock.

  Said cock was very interested in that idea, which had Noah questioning his plans for the rest of the night. She’d only had the one orgasm, and he’d decided at dinner that she was ready to enjoy some time in the bed, but now he was worried he was making excuses so that he himself could get some relief.

  When he’d originally mapped out the basic plan, he’d left sex out of the equation, figuring he would need to read her, and their encounters, to know if and when it was a good idea to include it or not. The fact that he was now questioning his instincts wasn’t great. He’d been attracted to her from the beginning, but the way she’d reacted to everything he’d thrown at her today was ramping that attraction up in a big way.

  He’d angled himself just slightly, so that he could see her without staring at her. He checked that she wasn’t watching, and adjusted his dick. It was nearly ten, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t managed to change the page on his book in more than five minutes, but he was determined to give her more of a rest. Not so much physically, but mentally.

  Natalie’s legs shifted. The clicking stopped and she scowled, then messed with the yarn. Finally, the clicks resumed.

  He forced his attention back to the book for another half hour, then looked over to her.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Horny.”

  As soon as the word escaped her lips, Natalie slapped a hand over her mouth.

  Noah’s eyes widened and then he burst out laughing. “You and me both,” he finally said.

  “Well it’s your fault! At least I’m not alone in it, though.”

  “My fault you’re so fucking sexy and responsive and willing and eager and giving me all sorts of ideas that make it hard to remember we have the whole weekend, and we’ve only been here half a day and need to take it slow?”

  “Yes.”

  He grinned. “Fine. I’ll take the blame.”

  She raised her nose in the air and sniffed, delicately. “Good.”

  She turned off her audiobook and pulled out the earbuds. He narrowed his gaze at them. “Wait,” he said. “What were you listening to? Didn’t you tell me some of your books were erotica?”

  “Erotic romance, actually, but this wasn’t that. You still get all the blame.”

  He heaved a big sigh. “Fine.” He reached out and gripped her ankle, then slowly pulled until she was flat on her back and her feet were in his lap. And then he started to rub her feet. Holy hell. She’d read about such things in books, but had always figured it was mostly exaggerated, or simply an excuse for touch. He dug his thumb into her arch and her eyes rolled back into her head. How had she never gotten a real foot massage before?

  She stuffed a pillow under her head so she could watch as he turned her into jelly.

  “You’re not ready to do another scene right now,” he said out of the blue.

  Apparently the look of concentration hadn’t been due to focus on her feet, but to their earlier conversation.

  �
��Especially one with sex.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, and tried not to pout. He continued to rub her feet.

  “However, I’m perfectly willing to be seduced. One might even say I’m primed for it.”

  Her mouth dropped open. That was not what she’d been expecting. At all. “Is that right?”

  “The Dom has retired for the night,” he clarified.

  “Hm.” She noticed that when he’d started on her second foot, he’d left her massaged foot in his lap. How convenient. She reached over and grabbed the pillow they’d left on the floor, stuffing it behind her so she was a little bit closer to him. “I’m not sure I’m interested in putting in that kind of work,” she teased. “I’ve had a tiring day.”

  As she spoke, she rubbed the heel of the foot he wasn’t holding along the bulge in his pants.

  He nodded. “I can understand that.” He sounded nonchalant, but his fingers spasmed on her foot. She pushed a little harder. And could feel him respond, even through his shorts.

  Before she could overthink things and dwell on memories of her unsuccessful and/or unsatisfying encounters with men in the past—because, really, those men weren’t Noah, so this didn’t compare—she made her move.

  She faked an exaggerated yawn, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “Oh. Excuse me. I’m very tired, I think I’ll retire now.” She pulled her feet from his hands—and his crotch—and rose as gracefully as she could manage, turning her back to him.

  She fiddled with the sash on her robe and let it fall away about halfway to the bedroom door.

  “Oops!” she turned fully toward him, watching as she bent over and slowly retrieved the robe.

  He’d already half risen from the couch, his gaze hot and focused. On her. With a little smile, she turned and resumed walking, not bothering to put the robe back on.