And I had a new car. A two-seater Mercedes. Black. He said it was not flash, just class, but it certainly was flash to me. We had words. I refused to accept. Knight refused to accept my refusal. This went on a while. Then he got sweet and I couldn’t keep refusing. Then he bitched about how hard it was to give me “fuckin’ anything”. Then we had more words because I informed him a car wasn’t exactly “fuckin’ anything” it was, “a f**king car, for f**k’s sake, Knight!” (that was me yelling).

At this, he burst out laughing which made me angrier. Then he shut me up and swept away my temper by kissing me, though that only worked because that led him to doing other things to me.

So now I had a sweet crib, a sweet ride, sweet kit and a sweet day job.

And a sweet life.

And Knight.

Knight just had me.

And I didn’t know how to give him more.

Except this way.

So I’d planned. I texted him when he was already at work and told him Sandrine had called and we were going out. The truth was, I was out for drinks only with both Sandrine and Vivica. No dancing. No men. Just the girls in a back, corner booth, lemon drops (me), martinis (Viv) and cosmos (Sandrine). We’d cabbed it so we were safe.

Knight called four times which I didn’t pick up, and left two texts.

So I didn’t bite off more than I could chew, I texted him back twice too, telling him I couldn’t hear the phone ring over the music but assuring him we were fine and I’d get a taxi.

Then he sent one last text.

Ass. Home. Now.

That was thirty minutes ago. I was pushing it, I knew.

But I was being bad.

And I was hoping that I’d succeeded in not biting off more than I could chew.

I pulled my key from my purse at the door, inserted it in Knight’s lock, turned it and sucked in another calming breath, wishing I’d had one last lemon drop for courage before I pushed it in.

It barely clicked behind me before Knight, wearing dark gray suit pants, shoes and a tailored slim-fit shirt the color of the deepest, darkest raspberry, prowled out of his study.

I stopped dead when the vibrating heat hit me.

“You went out with Sandrine?” he whispered and it was sinister.

I commenced, or I should say continued the game.

I flipped my hand in front of me, starting to take a step and saying airily, “We were fine, honey.”

“Stop… right… there.”

I stopped and focused more on him.

“You went out with Sandrine?” he repeated in his scary whisper.

“Honey, seriously, we were –”

He cut me off. “Without a man on you.”

“Like I said, we were –”

Another interruption as he crossed his arms on his chest. “Did you get my messages?”

“I couldn’t hear them over the music,” I said softly then offered, “I got your texts.”

“So you know I wanted your ass home three hours ago.”

“Knight, we were –”

“Dress off, panties off, leave the shoes,” he growled and my belly dropped.

“What?” I whispered.

“Right there, take your f**kin’ dress off, your panties off and leave your shoes on. Then walk your ass into my study and position on my desk, ass to the door.”

My legs trembled and my womb contracted.

“Knight –” His name trembled too.

“You do not,” he clipped, “wanna make me say it again.”

I held his eyes and he held mine.

I pushed it, for him.

Then his arms started to uncross as his body started to move and I dropped my purse and keys to the floor.

Then, eyes still on his, I lifted my skirt slowly and hooked my fingers into my panties. Then I pushed them down, they fell down my legs, the silk and lace flitting across my already sensitive skin as they dropped to my ankles. I stepped out of them and curled my fingers in the black silk of my dress, biting my lip and pulling it over my head.

When it fell from my fingers to the floor, Knight barked, “Study,” turned and stalked away.

I walked on shaking legs to the study.

Okay, all right.

Okay, all right.

Evidence was suggesting I bit off more than I could chew.

I walked into the warm woods and golden tans of his office, straight to the desk, breathing heavily and hoping I knew what the heck I was doing.

Our safe word was giraffe. In all the time we’d been together, I’d never considered using it. And Knight frequently got inspired. I’d been gagged with a scarf and tied spread-eagled to his bed. I’d gone down on him in his steam room off the bathroom. He’d f**ked my face and my pu**y while I was strapped on all fours to his bed.

And I’d loved every minute.

This, he was so angry, that vibrating heat unrelenting, I was worried.

Maybe I should have let him in on the fact that Viv was with us. He liked her, trusted her and said she had a good head on her shoulders.

Shakily, I positioned and I did it carefully. Torso to his desk. Ass out. And I made sure my legs were as wide as I could get them comfortably. That was how Knight liked me, always. With training, I’d learned to do that automatically when asked. I didn’t want to forget now.

I heard him come back and I pressed my lips together as I pressed my cheek to some papers on his desk. Then I rolled my lips.

I felt a light breeze and heard a soft whoosh as something hit the desk beside me but I didn’t dare look.

Then nothing.

I waited, deep breathing but failing to calm my escalating panic.

More nothing.

When I was about to say something, tell him Viv was with us, even tell him this was his birthday present, his hand suddenly was between my legs, pulling up rough yet gentle, like Knight could do. I gasped. Then I felt something I didn’t know what it was trailing across my bottom.

“You earned the strap tonight, baby.” I heard him say softly.

Oh God.

Oh God!

Well, at least it wasn’t the cane. I wasn’t ready for that yet. Viv said it hurt like a mother.

The thing on my behind kept stroking as Knight cupped me between my legs and he went on. “This one’s brand new. All for you. Break you in while you break it in,” he muttered.

Then his hand went away and that thing, what I knew was the strap, glided between my legs.

My eyes closed because that felt nice.

“Let’s get you ready,” Knight whispered and my eyes opened.