Unrestrained by Joey W. Hill Page A

walking out the side entrance, over to the garage. She was talking to another woman, perhaps the assistant Athena had mentioned, and they were carpooling. As they got into the car and pulled away, Dale returned his attention to Athena. It looked as if it had surprised her, his paying more attention to protecting her privacy than she herself had.
    He tightened his grip. “Your job is to obey my will, follow my direction exactly and immediately. Mine is to make sure you don’t have to focus on anything other than that. Understand?”
    She nodded. She wasn’t pulling away, and he decided to use that, shifting his grip to her wrist. “Take off the panties one-handed,” he ordered.
    Watching a submissive struggle with a logistical difficulty was another way of putting them off balance, taking up more of their attention, getting them in the right headspace. Plus it was a pure pleasure to have her putting her weight against his hold, relying on him for balance as she worked the skirt up to hook the thong panties with one set of fingers. She couldn’t screen herself from his view as much this way, so he watched the skirt bunch up over her thighs and then higher until he saw the point of her sex, covered by a smooth silky fabric, a tiny swatch of lace across the crotch panel. She was quite ladylike, his Athena.
    She worked the thong down, and he won another brief glimpse of her clean-shaven pussy before the skirt draped back over it, barely. Now that the requested garment was at her knees, she straightened as if to pull the skirt back in place, but he shook his head. “I asked for the panties. That’s your first priority.”
    Her hand shook in his, just a tiny tremor. The stress in her expression was a combination of arousal and uncertainty. She was all right; merely getting used to the new feelings.
    Stepping out of the thong, she bent to retrieve it. Her arm remained in his grasp as she handed it over, but then he shifted that hold. He placed both hands on her thighs, fingers sliding beneath the folds of skirt to grip firm, silken skin. His thumbs pressed on the seam of her thighs and she adjusted so they were open to him.
    “Good girl.”
    He sat back then, the underwear in his lap, and picked up his coffee. “You can adjust your skirt and sit at my feet now.”
    She complied, her cheeks a fetching pink as she wiggled the amount needed to accomplish the task. When she knelt at his feet, he saw her notice his arousal beneath the jeans. When he casually adjusted himself, straightening his cock beneath the denim, she moistened her lips.
    It would be so fucking tempting to have her suck him off right here. He had a feeling she would do so the moment he commanded it, but it would be too much. She was handling herself well, but if what she implied was true, he was the first man she’d ever trusted with this side of herself, and she’d been married—and monogamous—with the same guy for over twenty years. It showed her strength, that she was reaching out this way. The gift she was giving him was priceless, and it came with a lot of responsibility. He had to protect her every step of the way.
    The power of taking time was that it could wrap around a submissive, cocoon her, intensify every feeling for the both of them, and create a lasting experience that both would want to repeat, no guilt or regrets. It wasn’t a race, but a journey, and one that worked best if they stayed together during it, progressing to the point that they wouldn’t know where one of them stopped and the other started, the power exchange intertwined.
    He took one more sip of the coffee, then set it aside. “Give me a tour of the property. I want to know the resources I’ll have at my disposal.”
    “We don’t have a playroom or dungeon. I know it seems odd, for as much space as we have, but . . .”
    “That’s fine. I actually prefer to work with the environment the woman in question provides.”
    “Oh.” Though she nodded, there was an