He bent down and, at the same time, took her hair in his hand and pulled her head back, so he could kiss her like a barbarian warrior who has just won the civilized princess as his tent-girl. He brought his right hand down and took hold of her bottom, still left naked by the apron’s scanty cover. He thrust his fingers between her thighs from behind and commanded her wetness, as Charity moaned up into his mouth.
“I don’t care what you’re sure about, slut,” Ryan said. “Joe tells me I need to keep your hands off your PC for the next twenty-four hours. The only question is whether I’m going to tie those hands down or not.” The light came into her eyes again at the sound of the word ‘slut,’ the way it always seemed to do. “If I tie them down, that will make it harder for you to learn to touch my cock reverently. But of course I have many other paths to pleasure, where your lovely body is concerned.”
Charity gasped, and a look of incipient panic came into her eyes.
Ryan took the dominant talk down a notch. “What were you going to say you weren’t sure you could do, honey?”
“Oh… I-I mean…” The panic had reached her voice.
“Shh,” Ryan said, pulling her into a more conventional hug and letting her rest her cheek on his chest. “Color?”
“Yellow?” Charity replied instantly.
“Why, honey?”
“Because I’m just getting used to it, maybe?” She pulled her head back and looked up at him. “Are you just never going to be a conventional boyfriend at all?”
Ryan laughed, suddenly feeling carefree as he realized just how easy it would be to allay her fears. “I made you dinner, didn’t I?” he asked teasingly.
“But you put me in an apron and nothing else, and you spanked me, too.”
“Fair enough,” Ryan said. “Do you want me to be a conventional boyfriend for a little while, so you can see that I know how?”
Charity nodded solemnly, her eyes wide. Then she giggled. “Maybe only for fifteen minutes.”
Ryan kissed her very conventionally. “And then?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Sex-toy,” she whispered.
“Fuck-toy,” he corrected.
“Oh, God,” Charity said, moving, apparently by instinct alone, against him like an animal seeking release.
“If you want me to be conventional, though,” Ryan said, “you’ll have to behave yourself. I guess a conventional boyfriend doesn’t spank his girl for humping his leg, but you’ll have to follow my bodyguard rules anyway and clean up after yourself. Deal?”
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