Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) by Michele Zurlo

thrived on debate and argument in her professional life, she detested any kind of disagreement in her personal life.
    “You’re forgiven. Now finish your dinner. After we clean this mess, we’re going to play.”
    Anticipation tingled between her thighs. She’d wanted him to play with her for so long, and his lack of response didn’t exactly make her feel sexy or desirable. However, a quick glance at his lap as she shifted to return to her chair revealed that his nonchalant demeanor was a false front.
    They finished eating, and then they split the cleanup duties in the kitchen. As she dried her hands on a dish towel, she heard the chimes that indicated the buttons being pushed to start her dishwasher. And then he caged her against the counter with her back to him.
    Warmth radiated from his body, and the strength of his presence put every nerve ending on alert. She’d always responded to his physicality, to the authority he commanded with his every look, his every move. She felt the flutter of his lips on the back of her shoulder, and she closed her eyes to luxuriate in his attention.
    “Tonight you’re going to practice following directions. It won’t be easy. You’re going to have to trust me.”
    She trusted Keith. It was Master she didn’t know so well. “Yes, Master.”
    He smoothed his hand over the length of her hair, down her back, and stopped on her hip. “You’ll find some things painful or uncomfortable, perhaps embarrassing or humiliating. I want you to take as much as you can. I’ll help you. Only call yellow or red when it gets to be too much. Do you understand?”
    The hand on her hip didn’t mitigate the unease he caused with his warning. She kept reminding herself that she wanted this. She wanted this with Keith. Thank goodness he’d agreed to initiate her into this world. She didn’t think she would have been able to go through with it if she’d been with Dustin. “Yes, Master.”
    He placed his hands on the fronts of her thighs, a light touch full of energy that zapped the strength from her knees. She leaned against him, and he didn’t stop her. Slowly he moved up her body, exploring her skin. Pausing long enough to glide his fingertips over the short, trimmed hair at her pubic mound, he left her wanting a more thorough investigation.
    The journey continued over her stomach and ribs. At last he cupped her breasts. She wanted to reach behind her to wrap her arms around his neck, but he hadn’t instructed her to move, so she gripped the dish towel tightly. Her nipples had pebbled an hour ago, standing at attention to beg for his touch. Her breasts were small but sensitive. He flicked his thumbs over her nipples, and she felt it all the way to her core. A whimpering sound purred in the back of her throat, and she fought the urge to lean all her weight against him.
    For several long moments, he teased the rocklike peaks. Then he pinched them lightly between his thumbs and forefingers. “Have you ever worn clamps?”
    Katrina shook her head. Sometimes she didn’t even like to have her breasts touched for too long. “I think they’re too sensitive.”
    Behind her, his laugh rumbled against her back. “Oh, my precious Kitty Kat, that’s what makes it fun. We’ll start light and work our way to something with more bite.”
    Then he pinched them viciously, squeezing hard. She cried out and arched, trying to relieve the pressure, but it didn’t work. He kept up the torment, ignoring—or perhaps delighting in—evidence of her pain.
    “Breathe, Kat. Inhale. Exhale.”
    She forced herself to follow his orders. Concentrating on her breathing did make it easier to bear, but she stopped fighting it.
    “Beautiful. Now let go of that dish towel before you tear it in half.”
    She looked down at the soft, absorbent fabric twisted in her hands. It took some effort, which further took her mind away from the pain he caused, but she managed to release it.
    “Keep breathing. Relax against me.