The Way She Kneels

K.T. Bond

Copyright © 2015 by K.T. Bond

Cover Design © 2018 by Ron Perry, rperrygraphicdesign.com

Interior layout by Ron Perry

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Part I

Part One

"Kneel."

One quietly spoken word, but she knew this was a test. He aroused and intrigued her, and they’d had many conversations about his need to dominate and her refusal to submit. She was not a slave or a sub, not a whore or a bitch or a slut. She was herself, and she would thank him to remember that. And yet, his calm disposition and quiet strength attracted her. His crooked smile and scarred face appealed to her sense of beauty. His strong hands and big fingers excited her. His thick thighs and muscled butt drew her heat like a magnet.

"Why?" She couldn’t stop the question or the defiant attitude.

"Because you want to," he whispered softly, leaning in to her body, his lips to her ear.

"Wishful thinking!" Her words held more bravado than she felt. They hid a fear that he was right.

He smiled and walked away, settling himself on the chair by the window, and waited.

She struggled with herself. She trusted this man. He was the first person who made her feel beautiful, despite all the physical flaws she saw and acknowledged. He made her feel special, treasured…needed, and not just because she could satisfy his sexual desires. He wanted her love. He craved it, and he was passionate about getting it and giving back to her in equal measure all the desire he had stored up inside his barrel-chested body. She knew he would never hurt her.

"Just as long as you understand I’m not doing this to be subservient to you," she said, her voice hard, her hands shaking. "I’m not …"

She stopped, and he looked her in the eyes. “We both know exactly what you are, honey. And I’m okay with it. Are you?” His voice was even, his tone gentle. His eyes never left hers.

She swallowed. When had the tables been turned on her? She didn’t like feeling at a disadvantage with men … but he wasn’t just any man. She refused to examine her feelings for him. Now was not the time to lose focus.

"Of course I’m okay with it!" she snapped, irritated with herself and more turned on than she understood how to control. Which pissed her off even more. She knew what his response would be, which spiked her anger and swelled her core with heat. She didn’t know how to handle these opposing emotions, and it scared her.

"Then prove it," he answered immediately. "Kneel."

He gazed into her eyes, and she gave in. Just this one time, she would prove -- to herself and to him -- that she wasn’t a coward. And she would prove that she was immune to his games. If they were to be together, it would have to be because they both wanted the same things.

She knelt before him, her arms at her back to keep her balance. Widening his legs, he leaned forward, and said softly, his lips once again at her ear, "Move between my legs, till your shoulders touch my thighs."

She looked up at him and saw the same enigmatic smile, the same warm eyes, the same lust … the same quiet determination that was always there when he looked at her. She gritted her teeth and did as he asked. He stayed still, and she stopped when she felt the material of his dress pants. Then he leaned forward till his crotch was directly in front of her face.

"Put your arms around me, and rest your forehead on my belly."

She tried to look up again, but this time he rested his hand lightly on the top of her head, not pressing her down, just not letting her raise it.

"No. Don’t look at me. Just do as I ask."

His voice was hoarse, the way it always got when he was fighting some deep emotion. That sound always made her wet and achy. He wasn’t stopping her from looking at what was directly in front of her eyes, and she saw the heavy erection that tented the front of his dress pants. But as though he knew where she was looking, his cock jerked, and her mouth was suddenly full of saliva. She swallowed again, her face heating even though she knew he couldn’t see it.

Raising her arms, she put them around his thighs, which brought her face in contact with his lower belly, her chin brushing his twitching rod. She could smell his musk and she trembled with desire for a taste of his flesh. She tried to fight the urge to inhale his scent over and over, to rub her cheek against his hardness. She failed. He didn’t stop her, as she’d feared he might, from initiating a contact he had not asked for.

"Relax, honey." His voice rumbled above her head, his hands stroking her hair and her back. "I’ve got you."

She stilled beneath the tenderness of his touches, and when she was calm again, he said, "What do you want to do next?"

The question startled her into rearing back, forgetting his instruction not to look at him. He was staring down at her, his eyes glazed over with passion.

"Why are you asking me what I want?"

"Because you gave me what I wanted," was his simple response. "I wanted your acquiescence in one thing. Now it’s my turn. That is what you want, isn’t it?”

Her eyes filled up. He understood. She hadn’t thought he would. She wanted an exchange of power between them, an equal exchange, for their mutual pleasure. As she let him wipe the tears that had spilled onto her cheeks, she wondered who had the power now. Because she felt completely out of control.

"Yes," she said, sniffling.

"So..." His thumb slid under her shining eyes and swept the last drops away in a tender show of affection. "What do you want me to do?"

For the first time since she had known him, she relaxed completely and told him the whole truth.

"I want you to choose again," she said, and smiled.