At least, that was the only explanation he could think of for the subtle but definite change in her demeanor.

A slow smile spread across her face. “Perhaps. You did leave a lot of options open on your survey.”

Arousal stirred, warring with a touch of anxiety—because he had left a lot open due to his own inexperience and his desire not to shut himself off from anything that could ruin any chance he had with her from the beginning.

“Oh yeah?” he said, the challenge coming out of his mouth before he could think about it. “Why don’t you show me?”

A fire flared in her silver eyes, turning them to liquid heat as one finely arched brow lifted. The wine glass twirled slightly between her fingers. Her lips didn’t purse though; he finally got to see the smile she was always suppressing. A little twist of her mouth, one side curving up in almost in a smirk with just a touch of wicked that sent blood surging to his cock in sheer appreciation of how sinfully gorgeous she was.

“All right, cupcake.” She straightened up, sitting regally like a queen on her throne, one forearm on each armrest. “Come here.”

Luke started to get up.

“No.” Her voice dipped, lilted with both amusement and sexual heat. She nodded to the floor. “On your hands and knees, cupcake. I want to watch you crawl to me.”

Crawl?

Luke’s spine stiffened along with his cock.

No, part of him said. He wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t.

Yes, said the rest of him. Look at the way she’s watching you. Look at the way she’s leaning towards you. She’s not asking because she wants to humiliate you. She’s telling you to do what makes her hot.

Watching the changing expressions on Luke’s face was fun. Curiosity, interest, wariness... they were all there, the kind of mix which piqued her dominant side and made her want to get out her toys and play with the innocent subbie in him. Then she’d ordered him to crawl to her and the expressions she really thrived on had finally made an appearance. Pride, reluctance, desire, uncertainty, trepidation, arousal, acceptance.

She had to admit, she hadn’t been entirely sure what he would do.

But he’d been throwing down gauntlets left and right, trying to push her in his own way, trying to maneuver around her. So now she’d been the one to throw down a gauntlet and see what he made of it. If he was going to back up all the talk.

Never taking his eyes away from hers, he took one last drink from his beer bottle and then reached out and placed it on the coffee table. Then he got down on his knees and started to crawl.

He wasn’t graceful. He wasn’t quick. And he wasn’t entirely happy about it.

But he was crawling.