“Because you’re too domineering, Remy. Too much of a control freak. You could never be...submissive in bed.”
“Submissive?” he repeated.
Zandra laughed. “It even sounds foreign coming out of your mouth.”
“That’s not true. I can be—” he paused over the word “—submissive.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really. I can be any way you want me.”
“Any way, huh?”
“Any way. Anytime.”
Their gazes locked in seductive challenge.
A slow smile curved Zandra’s lips. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Yeah?” His voice turned smoky. “Why’s that?”
Zandra slowly unbelted and removed her trench coat, letting it fall to the floor.
Remy’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped at the sight of her body sheathed in a red satin dress that was a modern twist on Victorian-era gowns. His hungry gaze traveled over the lush mounds of her breasts spilling over the vintage corset, down to the translucent skirt that slitted up to her bare thighs.
“Dammmnnn,” he breathed, licking his lips. “So that’s what you were hiding under that coat.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Zandra smiled, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. “You like?”
“Oh, I like very much,” he drawled huskily, sauntering over to her. The naked heat in his gaze made her nipples tighten as her clit pulsed and throbbed.
As he reached out to touch her, she stepped back and held up a hand. “No.”
He frowned. “What?”
“This will be the next phase of our role-playing,” she told him. “But before I explain our new identities, I feel obligated to tell you that this chamber has a one-way mirror, which represents Millie’s voyeuristic tendencies. She liked to be watched during her liaisons. Anyway, even though this floor is closed for the night, there’s always the possibility of someone sneaking up here to...indulge their voyeurism.” Her voice turned silky. “Do you have a problem with being watched, Remington?”
He paused, glancing across the room to the wall she’d indicated. “One-way mirror, huh?”
“Yes.”
After another moment, his gaze returned to hers and narrowed. “Do you have a problem with being watched?”
“No.” She gave him a sultry smile. “I’m going to be Millie. She got off on being watched. But if you don’t, we can end the game right here.”
Remy looked her over, taking in her eye-popping cleavage and deeply slitted skirt. He shook his head slowly. “If you don’t have a problem with it, neither do I.”
Zandra smiled with satisfaction. “Good boy.”
Humor lit his eyes. “So if you’re the courtesan queen,” he drawled, “who am I?”
Her smile widened. “You’re a brave, dashing captain in the British Army.”
“Army?” Remy made a face. “How about the Royal Navy?”
She sputtered indignantly. “Look at you. Defying orders already.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. But you know I’m a navy man.”
“Hey, I didn’t even have to put you in the military. Besides, this is supposed to be my fantasy. You can’t just— Oh, never mind,” Zandra relented in exasperation. “You can be in the bloody Royal Navy.”
“Thank you,” he said with exaggerated courtesy.
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” Zandra licked her lips seductively. “The only thing you are tonight is my slave.”
His dark eyes gleamed. “Is that so?”
“Umm-hmm,” she purred, stroking his chest. “You said you can be submissive. So let’s put you to the test.”
“Bring it on.”
“All right.” She pointed. “Take off your clothes.”
He grinned wickedly. “With pleasure.”
She watched as he made quick work of stripping—tugging off his shirt, toeing off his boots and socks, then unzipping his jeans and shoving them down his long, powerful legs.
Holding her gaze, he slowly pushed his dark briefs down over his hips. When his huge cock bounced free—long, thick and gloriously hard—Zandra’s mouth watered, and her belly quivered.
His eyes glinted at her. “What now, my queen?”