“Nah.” I kissed his cheek. “You know how it is—playing does weird things to your sense of time.”
“So does sleeping.” He rubbed his eyes. “And holy fuck, that thing you used…the wheel…”
“It’s a Wartenberg wheel.”
“Yeah. That. It’s so weird. And then you’d touch me with your fingers and…” He squirmed.
I laughed. “That’s the idea.”
“It’s an evil idea.”
“You seemed like you were enjoying yourself.”
“Of course I was.” He met my gaze. “I was tied up and being fucked with.”
Rick, never leave this bed.
I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Speaking of fucking with you, you’re back in the office on Thursday, right?”
His eyes lost focus for a second. “I’d have to look.”
“Good. Check for me.”
He nodded.
“Because when you come back to my office, I’ve got a little present for you.”
He held my gaze, and his eyebrows slowly rose, as if he were reading between the lines. “A present?”
“Mmhmm.” I ran my hand up the middle of his chest, through the fan of thin, dark hair. “You distracted me all day. Made the day ten times as long.” I inclined my head. “And I saw you snickering when Marie caught me being distracted.”
His eyes widened. “I…”
“You were, weren’t you?”
He nodded, his expression sheepish.
“Mmhmm. That’s what I thought.” I curved my hand around the back of his neck. “I think I’m going to punish you for that.”
“Punish?” He gulped. “What did you have in mind?”
“Let’s go downstairs, and I’ll show you.”
“Oh…okay.”
“Is that a problem?”
He stiffened. “No! Of course not. Just…um…not sure what you’re plotting.”
“Only one way to find out.”
We both put on jeans but didn’t bother with shirts. Then I took him by the hand and led him back down to the basement. He’d been in here before, but this was the first time he looked truly uneasy. Not as if he had the safe word at the tip of his tongue, but as he eyed our surroundings and rocked from his heels to the balls of his feet, he gave off the distinct vibe of a submissive who knew shit was about to push some of his less pleasant boundaries.
I opened one of the cabinets and went straight for the rack beneath the spreader bars. There, I found the toy I’d been thinking of ever since he’d smothered that laugh in the meeting.
“Here we are.” I turned around and held it up.
Rick’s lips parted. “Oh fuck.”
“You know what this is, don’t you?”
“Yeah. It’s a…cock cage.”
“And its purpose?”
He swallowed. “Cock and ball torture.”
“Precisely.” I ran my finger along the strap, letting the steel rings clink together. “You ever worn one before?”
He nodded. “Not that exact type, but…close.”
“Good. So you know they’re a little inconvenient?”
“You could say that.”
“Well, since you snickered at the meeting while Marie gave me shit”—I held up the cock cage—“on Thursday morning, before you leave for the office, I want you to put this on.”
“On…on myself?”
“Well, unless you think Dion would hold still.”
Rick snorted, but then he shook himself and stared at the cock cage. “I’m… How does…”
“Want me to show you?”
He shot me a wide-eyed look, probably wondering if I was joking.
I undid the strap. “Might be easier if you dropped trou.”
Rick blinked.
I nodded toward the floor.
He eyed me. “You’re serious.”
I held his gaze. He held mine.
Gulping, he reached for his belt.
I stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “Just fucking with you this time.”
“Asshole,” he muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
“That’s what I thought.” I held up the device. “It’s actually easier than it looks. Dick goes through the rings, strap goes around your balls.”
“Jesus.” He grimaced. “That sounds comfortable.”
“Well, I wouldn’t wear it to the gym or anything, but it’s not that bad.” I handed the cage to him. “Put it on Thursday morning. And I want proof that it’s on.”
“I don’t imagine we’ll have much opportunity for an inspection at the office.”
“No, probably not. But smartphones are good for some things.” I gestured at the device I’d just given him. “I want that one, and I want photographic proof by nine o’clock Thursday morning.”
He chuckled. “You do realize you’re asking me to send you a dick pic.”
“No.” I arched my eyebrow. “I’m telling you to send me proof that you’re doing as you were told.”
His smile vanished, and his Adam’s apple jumped.
“Are you protesting?”
Rick shook his head. “No.”
“Good. Then I’ll expect a text from you at nine o’clock.”
He stared at me. I was about to ask again if he was objecting, but then he gulped, nodded and whispered, “Nine o’clock. Got it.”
This was going to be fun…
Chapter Twelve
On Thursday morning, I was focusing intently on installing a wire railing for a miniature staircase when my phone buzzed.
I glared at it. Who the hell was texting me at nine—
Oh. Right.