Letting Go (Surrender Trilogy #1)(40)

She walked to the closet, curious, and when she opened the door, she saw all her things she’d packed hanging on hangers. She took up the right side while Dash had moved his things to occupy the left.

Her shoes were neatly lined up on the floor beneath the hanging clothes.

She glanced at the dresser and knew without looking that he’d put away her panties and bras and pajamas. Her cheeks flushed hot when she imagined him sorting through her intimate wear and putting them away.

He’d said he would be in the kitchen, but the thought of walking in there, naked, sent terror through her veins. It made her achingly vulnerable. Powerless. But wasn’t that the point? She was ceding all power to him. She’d made a point of saying she didn’t want to make choices, that she wanted them made for her. It still discomfited her, that it made her appear weak and spineless. But what was it Dash had said? That it took a strong woman to submit to a man?

She held on to the assurance. Tucked it away so she could remind herself of those words every time she felt she was weak.

“Okay, this is it, Joss,” she murmured to herself as she stood at the door of the bedroom. “No going back now. Once you walk out of here your decision is made.”

She stood a moment, battling herself, trying to summon the courage necessary to take that final step. Her hand curled around the knob and she yanked the door open, striding through the doorway before she could talk herself out of this insanity.

She walked to the head of the stairs and looked down, seeking any sign that Dash was close or that he’d see her descend the stairs. But no, he’d said he’d be in the kitchen and that he’d give her all the time she needed to prepare.

How the hell could she ever be prepared to walk naked into the kitchen where a man waited who had been very blunt about his intentions?

“Stop being such a coward,” she admonished herself fiercely as she forced her way down those steps.

At the bottom, she didn’t hesitate. Take the plunge. She headed for the kitchen, determined to get that first moment of awkwardness away. The sooner she got it over with, the sooner her nerves would settle and maybe the fear would melt away.

Dash had his back turned to her, tending to something on the stove when she entered the kitchen. She did so quietly and yet he still knew the instant she came in. He turned, his eyes flaring with appreciation as he took in her appearance.

They burned brightly, smoldering as his gaze raked up and down her body. But it was the approval that put her at ease.

“You look just as beautiful as I imagined,” he said hoarsely. “Even more so than I dreamed. You’ve occupied plenty of my fantasies, honey, but the reality has nothing on those dreams.”

She smiled, bolstered by his praise. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Her shoulders slumped as she relaxed and some of the awful tension that had her in knots loosened and she could breathe normally again.

He set a pot off the stove and then hurried toward her. To her surprise, he slid his hand around her neck and pulled her to him, his lips finding hers in a heated rush.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he murmured against her lips. “You. Naked. In my home. Here in my kitchen while I prepare a meal I intend to feed you by my hand. It’s more than I ever dared hope for, Joss. I hope to hell you know that.”

“I do now,” she said with a smile as he drew away, his eyes glittering with desire.

“Go into the living room and get comfortable,” he directed. “I’ll bring in a tray momentarily.”

His gaze lingered a moment longer before he reluctantly turned away and went back to the stove.

As he’d directed, she went into the living room and sank into the sumptuous leather. She wasn’t cold, but the urge to pull one of the throws around her was strong. But that wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he’d commanded of her, and she wouldn’t start their relationship off on a bad foot by disobeying his very first directive.

A few minutes later Dash entered the living room carrying a tray with one plate. Evidently he’d been serious about feeding her, because there was no extra serving. He stopped at the coffee table and slid it onto the glass top before settling onto the couch next to her.

To her surprise he reached for one of the pillows and placed it on the floor next to his feet. Puzzled by his action, she sent him an inquisitive look.

In response he simply held out his hand to hers, his gaze steady and . . . challenging? Was this a test? And if it was, what was she supposed to do?

When he continued holding out his hand, but not reaching to take hers, she slid hers into his and his fingers curled around hers.

“I want you to kneel on the pillow so that I can feed you,” he said in a low, husky voice.

She held back the questions that burned her lips. Instead she simply nodded and rose, with his assistance. She sank onto the pillow as gracefully as she was able, and remembering his instructions for when she knelt, she spread her thighs and rested her hands, palms up on the tops of her legs.

“Very good,” he murmured. “You’re a natural at this, Joss. Make sure you’re comfortable and we’ll begin our meal.”

It was a little mortifying to be sitting, thighs splayed where he could easily see her most intimate parts. And yet her clit tingled, swelling with her arousal. Her ni**les hardened and her breathing shallowed, little puffs of air escaping her parted lips.