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an inch of movement in each
direction. She was trapped in the blissful torment of his touch.
    He drew the pads of two fingers back and forth
over her slick cleft. She was practically choking on her own moans when he
angled them at the entrance of her pussy and pressed inside. At the heavenly
invasion, Eve hissed a sigh through clenched teeth and felt her eyes rolling
back in her head. From the foreplay alone she was on the verge of an orgasm. A
few minutes more and she’d be teetering over the edge into full body
convulsions and earth-shattering moans.
    He pumped his fingers and hit her G-spot—no
searching or faltering. Again and again, he worked the hard nub of her clit
with his thumb as he withdrew his fingers and re-entered. Eve tore her mouth
from his and wildly thrashed her head. It was coming. Any second now—weightless
rapture.
    Suddenly, he stopped.
    “What—what are you doing!” Eve blurted out of
breath. “Why are you stopping?”
    “I was just thinking.” He withdrew his fingers
and cupped his palm over her dripping mound. “You said you didn’t think we’d
end up in bed together yet your pussy is so, so smooth—freshly waxed, I’d say. Much
like when a woman knows she’s going to fuck a man for the first time.”
    Disoriented and huffing, Eve shut her eyes and
briefly recalled her last minute appointment at the beauty salon. This was her
first Brazilian wax. Helga did a good job. Maybe too good, she thought,
realizing what he was getting at.
    “Oh, you’re a bastard,” she whispered.
    “And you’re a liar.” He pulled his hand free from
her panties and she let out a frustrated whimper. He left her there with her
thighs vibrating and her heart racing and crossed the room. She had never
wanted to fuck a man and throttle him so badly in her entire life. Eve tracked
his movements through blurry eyes. In strange fascination she watched him
remove the champagne bottle from the bucket. Is this what he did to all his
women? Turned their bodies into a raging inferno and then celebrated his
victory with a drink?
    “What are you doing?” she demanded when he left
the champagne on the table and carried the stainless steel icer back with him.
    “I’m teaching you what happens when my submissive
lies to me.”
    “I keep telling you that I am not a submissive,”
she snapped. “I’m certainly not your submissive.”
    “You are for the weekend.” He crouched in front
of her and set the bucket on the floor. “You fixed the bet.”
    In shock, Eve gaped down at him.
    “You’re claiming to have won by…default?”
    “Any way you want to term it is fine by me.
Either way, you’re mine for the weekend. And, if you’re really not a submissive,
tell me why these panties are so, so soaked.” He reached up and hooked his
fingers in the band of lace at her hips then slowly pulled them down her thighs
as far as they would go with her legs shackled two feet apart.
    Face scalding, Eve quickly redirected her gaze.
Her pussy muscles contracted violently under the weight of his stare and she
realized there was no possible way to disguise her arousal. Regardless, she
wasn’t about to tell him the truth. There was too much at stake. She needed a
logical explanation. Fast.
    “I don’t know if you’re familiar with the female
body but believe it or not, when I’m sexually stimulated I tend to get wet. So,
I wouldn’t be so quick to credit my arousal to your skills as a Dom as much as
to your skills as a lover,” she said, sending him a pointed stare.
    That made sense. Didn’t it?
    “I think that’s the first compliment you’ve ever
given me, counselor. The delivery was a bit rough, but then beggars can’t be
choosers.” He reached inside the bucket and fished out a few rounded cubes of
ice.
    “What do you plan on doing with those?” she
demanded.
    He gave his wrist a flick, shaking off the excess
of water. “Well, if you really are a Mistress then I suppose I’ll be spending
the entire weekend