Page 69 of Kane

I smile from ear to ear.

“And I told you, good boys get rewards.” His voice evens out, going back to the firm, stern one I know well. The one I love.

“Uh-huh,” I breathe, my dick straining against my pants in this position.

“So tell me, Ryder, what is it that you want?” he whispers. “What can I give you?

I don’t have to think about my answer, though it shouldn’t come as easily as it does.

“You,” I say. “Kane, I want you.”

Chapter Sixteen

Kane

You, Kane. I want you.

I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone say those words, but the minute Ryder says them, something in me cracks open.

I look up into his eyes, into those beautiful sapphire orbs, and it’s like I’m finally home. Like some missing piece of me has finally been found.

I kiss Ryder everywhere my mouth can reach, trailing my lips along his jaw, up to his ear.

“Tell me,” I whisper, a new sort of instinct taking over. I’ve instructed plenty of men as a dom. Telling people what to do, especially in this sort of situation, is a natural sort of thing for me. But what isn’t natural, what is new and scary and intriguing and addicting is this feeling that I want him—no I need him—to tell me what he wants in exact words, so I can give it to him.

Because I want to give Ryder everything he deserves. This sexy, charming, funny man who knows just how to push my buttons and bring out parts of me I didn’t know I had. Who knows how to lead me when I am unsure, when I am afraid of the unknown.

“Tell me precisely how you want me to make you come, Ryder, and I will.”

Ryder’s eyes roll in the back of his head, and I have to refrain from chuckling because I swear, it’s the cutest damned thing I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God,” he mutters.

“You good?” I ask softly. “If this is too much—”

“Oh, I’m good,” Ryder says, digging his socked heels into my jean-clad ass.

He grins like the Cheshire Cat.

“Sir. Very fucking good.”

“I’m not going to tell you again, Ryder. Last chance.”

I watch his pupils dilate, but he looks nervous.

“Um… are you any good with rope?” he asks, blushing that shade of scarlet that is like a drug for my cock.

“Actually, yes, though I will be honest and tell you I have not done much bondage in years.”

“Oh,” he says, biting his lip.

“But I will not hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He swallows.

“No, I trust you. I just—”

“Talk to me,” I tell him as I let him down, because I can tell this is something that may be difficult for him. “Tell me what you’re feeling, thinking.”