He stared at her, waiting.

She should say no. She should walk away right now.

But “should” was a word she resisted. It was self-limiting and hinted at externally imposed barriers. Because she could do anything she wanted. The only one who had a right to dictate what she did or didn’t do was her.

And what she wanted to do … what the overwhelming desire burning inside her insisted she do … was go with him. She wanted to submit to him. To be vulnerable to him.

To trust in him and give herself to him in every way.

* * *

As soon as the door closed behind them, Dare swept Ashley into his arms and kissed her. She melted against him, the heat of the desire that had been building on the drive there filling her with anticipation.

Then he drew away. She could see only a flicker of the heat in his eyes as he schooled his expression to one of calm authority.

“You will do everything I say to the letter. You will not argue or hesitate. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir. I like that. You will address me as Mr. Gallagher or sir. Follow me.”

He led her to the stairway, then up to the second floor. Through double doors at the end of the hall she caught a glimpse of a big, four-poster bed in deep mahogany. She followed him toward it, but then he stopped at a door on the right and opened it. He turned on a light, casting away the darkness, and led her inside. She glanced around, her eyes widening at the rough-hewn wooden furniture around the room: a large, X-shaped piece in one corner, about seven feet tall, with cuffs attached. Padded benches of different shapes, all with restraints. And a tall cupboard along one wall.

And a bed on one side, covered with black sheets.

He led her to a large chair and sat down. She stood waiting uncertainly.

“Come here.”

She stepped toward him.

“Unbutton your shirt.”

He wanted her to undress? Oh, God, this was becoming all too real, all too fast.

But she obeyed. Her fingers moved to the top button and she unfastened it. Then to the second. Her skin flushed as her shirt slowly opened, revealing a glimpse of her bare skin and lacy bra beneath.

When she’d finished with the bottom button, she slid her hands up the placket, ready to open the blouse, but he took her hands and drew her close.

“Do only what I say and no more,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact.

He placed her hands at her sides, then he slowly parted her shirt, revealing her lace-clad breasts. The heat of his gaze seared her as he stared at her swelling breasts, the nipples pushing at the thin lace. He slid the shirt over her shoulders and it glided down her arms and fell to the floor.

His hands glided up her ribs, then under her breasts, and one thumb glided over her hard nub. Her breath caught at the incredible sensations vibrating through her. Then his other thumb brushed over her second nipple and she thought her knees would buckle.