Pavel
PavelWhen we return from the pier, I’m ready to play. “I want you n***d, on the bed, now,” I command, unbuttoning my cuffs.
Kayla’s glassy, unfocused gaze instantly sharpens at my tone, and she scrambles to comply. She strips off all her clothes.
“I want you in the hose and heels,” I say gruffly, my d**k already hard again remembering how hot she looked last night in them.
I don’t undress because that’s how we roll—her n***d; me clothed, for as long as possible. It helps set the power dynamic. She’s my slave. Undressed for my eyes. n***d in every way to me. Right down to the soft marshmallow of her soul.
She crawls up on the bed in her black thigh-highs and stilettos and kneels in the center of it, hands face up on her thighs, awaiting instruction. I let my gaze roam over the be
