Knox pushed back onto his knees, dying to tear off his jeans and fuck her any way she told him to.

But when Shiori bent to retrieve her pants—interesting that she’d gone commando—his hopes deflated even as his cock stayed hard and proud.

After she put her pants back on, she took her phone out and poked at the buttons. Then she perched on the edge of the couch and smoothed his hair back, gently mapping his face before she leaned in and kissed him.

Her kiss was equal parts gratitude and control. When she broke free, Knox stubbornly kept his eyes closed.

“Look at me.”

Warning himself not to glare, or look fucking pitiful, he peeled his eyes open halfway.

“I know you’re hard and uncomfortable and are probably cursing me for it. But since I’m not going to do anything about it, you can’t either.” She waited, probably expecting him to explode with outrage, but he knew it’d be a waste of breath.

“You don’t get to touch yourself or get off until I say. So no washing your cock and balls in the shower and the next thing you know, you’re jacking off when you didn’t mean to. Ditto using wet dreams as an excuse of why you came when I told you not to.

“I’m not doing this to torture you, Knox. I’m making this demand for two reasons. First for you to learn you have no control. Accept it. Accept that you won’t always like it. The second reason is orgasm denial builds stamina. If you can get off whenever you want, then it’s harder for you to get off when I want. Understand?”

He blinked at her.

“Have something to say?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Don’t pout.”

He bit off, “I. Don’t. Pout.”

She pressed her lips to his. “Kiss me.”

But Knox’s mouth was closed down as tight as Fort Knox.

Yep. Definitely pouting. She laughed. “Kiss me like you mean it, Knox. Kiss me and touch me as if I’d given you the green light and you were carrying me off to bed.”

That broke his frustration. He brought her on top of him and rolled down to the floor. One hand in her hair held her head in place so he could eat at her mouth the same way he’d eaten at her pussy, the other hand pressing down on her lower back, so he could rock his dick against her pubic bone.

Shiori’s hands were trapped between them, and she just dug her nails into his chest and held on.

Finally the frustration eased and he released her.

“That’s what I want from you,” she whispered against his throat. “An honest reaction.” She rolled to her feet and offered a hand to help him up.

Knox laughed. “I’m not falling for that. You might just throw me on my ass for fun, and wouldn’t that be the perfect capper to my night?”

“Any regrets?”

He scrubbed his hands down his face and looked out the window rather than at her. A Lincoln Town Car pulled up to the curb. “Doesn’t matter. Your ride is here. And for the record, Mistress, I fucking hate that you won’t at least let me take you home.”

She slipped her coat on without his assistance. “I’ll consider it for next time, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.” She bowed to him before she fled.

Bowed.

As he watched her drive away, he realized whatever justification he’d made about this situation felt hollow.

CHAPTER NINE

SHIORI, Fee, Katie, Tasha, and Molly met at the North Seventh Girls Club Saturday morning. Molly, being her usual sweetheart self, brought doughnuts for everyone—including the girls in the class.

Katie served as the MC, introducing everyone, and did a great job of explaining the differences between traditional jujitsu and Brazilian jujitsu. Then she emphasized how long each of the black belt instructors had been training and what tournaments they’d placed in. It surprised Shiori that Katie had that info on her because she’d never given Black Arts a full bio. So the woman was resourceful; she’d grant her that.

Then she introduced Molly. Molly’s story of her attack, her recovery, and her enrollment in self-defense training kept the girls riveted, especially the part where Molly swore knowing she could defend herself had made her a stronger, more confident person in all aspects of her life.

Shiori and Fee demonstrated the simplest self-defense techniques on Tasha and Molly while Katie explained each step. The girls, ranging in age from eight to fourteen, were partnered up by size, and then the real work began. Although Shiori supposed that fits of giggles were better than crying fits.