Under His Command (Six-Alarm Sexy) by Kristine Cayne Page B

enjoying her struggle. She gripped the edge of the seat, and ground her teeth together. “I’m going to come again.” Her voice rose to a shrill pitch.
    “You will not.” He let a moment pass. “Not until I give you permission. As your Dom, I say when and where you can come.”
    Was he out of his mind ? No one could control an orgasm. “And how do you propose I stop it?”
    “Count sheep.” She closed her eyes as a tornado built deep inside her. Jamie sucked in a harsh breath and grabbed her wrist. “Self-pleasuring is not permitted. Unless I order it.”
    What was he talking about? She wasn’t— The thought died as she looked down. Her dress was hiked up to her waist and her right hand was between her legs, rolling the beads against her swollen folds. Hissing, she tore her hand away and shoved her dress back in place. He was turning her into a sex addict!
    Jamie’s loud laugh startled her. She jerked her head up and seeing the humor dancing in his eyes, her cheeks flamed. “Did I say that out loud?” Dropping her face into her hands, she groaned. “Oh, God. I did.”
    With a sideways glance, Jamie wound his hand in her hair and tugged. “Sit back.”
    The guttural scrape of his voice put her on instant alert. Desire etched his features, sharpened his jaw and cheekbones. The tingles between her legs turned to sizzles. Who would break first? Since she’d already climaxed twice, logic would dictate that it would be him. But everything about Jamie defied logic. The unexpectedness of her previous orgasms had astounded her, and left her primed and ready for more.
    What had he said earlier? Count sheep? It was certainly worth a try. Closing her eyes, she pictured fluffy little lambs jumping over a fence. One sheep. Two sheep .
    Jamie tugged on her hair again. “Open your eyes.”
    Not fair. Keeping her head down, she resisted. How could she count sheep if she couldn’t see them? When he tugged harder, she snapped her eyes open. His clenched jaw jumped and she had the sudden urge to run her tongue along the edge of it. The pulsing between her legs flared and she tore her gaze away from him.
    “Lift up your dress.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Here?”
    “Yes. Now.”
    Happy that she’d worn her favorite no-wrinkle dress, she raised the hem, folding it neatly at her waist. When the hem passed her mound, exposing her, he said, “That’s it. Show me your pretty pussy.”
    Pussy . The word ripped through her memories, bringing that first night back to her in high-definition. Every sound, every scent, every touch. It all came back in a rush. Simply remembering the way he’d spread her legs and studied her most private place triggered a fresh wave of desire.
    He pushed on the back of her head. “See how wet you are? How your juices gleam in the sun? Describe it to me.”
    God, that was gross. Why did he want her to do that? Keeping her head down, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Oh, right. He was still driving. She swallowed, stalling. “You lied.”
    Frowning, he shot her a questioning look. “I’ve been more honest with you in the last day than ever before in our marriage.”
    “You said you’d never make me do anything embarrassing.”
    “No. I said I’d never embarrass you or make you do anything embarrassing in public. But that’s beside the point. Describing yourself shouldn’t be any more embarrassing than describing a picture or a painting. Now do it.”
    Her husband had lost his mind. Letting out a long breath, she tilted her hips so she could have a better view of the area in question. “Um… well… it’s pink and shiny.”
    “Sounds like you’re describing a newborn pig. Pretend I’ve never seen a pussy before. Tell me everything you see.”
    She snorted. “It’s not at all nice to look at. I may just turn you off women forever.”
    Reaching between her legs, he fondled her with his fingers, dipping one inside her. Stunned, she barely had time to register what he’d done