Page 50 of Degrees of Power
Reply:Not exactly all day… I’m almost done, half an hour?
Message:Fair enough. Half an hour and if you are late I will pick the implement of my choosing.
Reply:I’m getting wet…
Message:I’ll need to confirm this personally when I see you. Wear a dress.
I smile at his last message and hurriedly skim the rest of the document to ensure I didn’t miss anything before heading to the shower. I finger the silver and diamond bracelets around my left wrist and clasp the diamond necklace Chase gave me after toweling off and slipping into black thigh highs with an adornment of lace, a slim black skirt, and a white button down blouse, allowing the first two buttons to remain open before sliding into the Jimmy Choo heels that buckle daintily around my ankles. I glance at the time again. Still five minutes to go. I take my time, applying a light lip gloss, a little shadow, eyeliner and spritz of the designer perfume we bought on our honeymoon. I glance at the incoming text and smile.
Message:You are now late.
Reply:It would appear that way…
Message:I’m looking forward to yourlong, slow torturous punishment.
I walk down the stairs and into the dining room and although engrossed in something on his phone, Chase looks up the moment I enter the doorway. He stands and comes to take my hand. “You look absolutely stunning this evening,” he says, his gaze skimming over my body, heating my flesh with its intensity. The possessive placement of his hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the table, is such a small touch, but one that sends a shiver of anticipation through me.
“Cold, Baby?” he says, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he takes a seat next to me.
I shake my head, unsure of my voice at this very moment. “No?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “Nervous?”
“Maybe anxious,” I whisper, finding my voice, glancing at the garden salad and roasted rack of lamb with a reddish-colored sauce drizzled over the top, baby potatoes and green beans and unsure how I will eat a bite.
“As you should be,” he says, pouring us a glass of wine from the bottle on the table.
“Eat, it will help sustain your energy this evening and Gaby has prepared a new raspberry reduction for the lamb,” he says.
I pick up my fork and cut into the tender meat, the delicious thickened raspberry sauce a perfect compliment to the delicately mild taste of the lamb. “It’s very good,” I say.
“I would agree, the dinner is excellent, but you seem a little nervous this evening.”
“Maybe a little,” I say, swallowing a sip of wine.
“Baby, your lateness was intentional,” he says, reaching under my skirt, the side slit making it an easy task, brushing against my wetness.
I glance nervously around, straining to see if I can hear Gaby in the kitchen or elsewhere. “We are alone. Gaby will be spending the evening in her suite upstairs,” he says as if reading my mind.
I take a few more bites of the buttery garlic and parmesan roasted potatoes and almond flavored green beans, and then absently push them around my plate. “You should eat, Baby, you need your energy,” he says gently.
“I know, I’m not exactly hungry for food right now though,” I say.
“Now that I’ve confirmed your wetness, Katarina, how did earlier make you feel? When you were restrained, completely helpless and your sweet little pussy was spanked?” he asks.
The heat rising up my neck and across my cheeks is uncontrollable and I feel myself moisten even more at his words.
“I liked it, a lot,” I say through my embarrassment.
“What did you like about it, exactly?” Chase instructs.
“The vulnerability of being restrained, I liked that you were fully dressed and I was nude, you in control, and getting spanked, the feel of the paddle, there,” I say, looking up at him.
“Where is that, Baby? Say it again for me,” he says.
“My pussy,” I say, feeling the heat in my cheeks immediately.
“I like your flush and the glossiness of your eyes when you say that word for me,” he says, pushing his finished plate aside and slipping his hand underneath my skirt, brushing against my folds, caressing me lightly.
“Are you finished with your dinner?” he asks, eyeing the few bites of potato and beans on my plate.
