“I’ve been undercover at several clubs, and I’ve spent a lot of time at Sanctum.”

I don’t know what Sanctum is, but I assume it’s another club. “So you’re not, um, a real Dom.”

He chuckles, and the sound ripples through me, setting off a flurry of sensual sparks.

“Today I am. Today, I’m your Dom.”

“Oh.” I lick my lips. “You mean because we’re here pretending. Looking.” I know I’m pushing the limit here. That I’m playing with fire. But that’s okay. After all, I’ve already decided that I want to get burned.

There’s a pause, then I feel his breath tickle the back of my neck. “No, baby. That’s not what I mean.”

I close my eyes and draw in a breath, his answer turning me on more than I anticipated it would. “What do you mean?”

“I think that’s enough questions from you,” he says, the hard edge to his voice letting me know that he’s done talking about being a Dom. Now, he’s just going to show me. “Tell me, baby. Have you ever been spanked?”

I consider not answering, but the time for game playing has passed. “No.”

“Why do you want it now?”

I don’t know what to say. Part of me wants to be punished for liking this more than I should. Part of me is simply curious.

But it’s more than that. I like knowing that I’d be submitting to him even as I’m giving him a gift. Because I heard the arousal in his voice, and I know that the idea of spanking me turns him on, too.

“Maybe I don’t know how to tell you,” I admit. Then I add boldly, “Maybe you should punish me.”

For an instant, his finger stills on my pussy, the hesitation so small that it would be imperceptible were I not so attuned to this man.

“Pineapple,” he reminds me, then pulls his hands free of my clothes.

He takes the leash again and leads me to the chair, the leather clinging to my hips, but my bare ass exposed by the still-open zipper.

He sits, then nods and tells me to stand in front of him. “Unzip your bustier.”

I widen my eyes at this unexpected turn of events. His mouth curves up, just a little smug. “I want what I want, too. Trust me. You’ll like it.”

I hesitate, but comply, pulling the zipper down to just above my navel. He reaches forward, then spreads the leather, revealing both my breasts. He shocks me then by reaching into his vest and pulling something out of an interior pocket. A chain with two small clamps on the ends.

Nipple clamps.

“Come closer,” he orders, and though I move hesitantly, I comply.

“Will they hurt?” I ask, surprised to see him smile in response to the question.