His cock remained erect; his heavy balls were tight in the harness.

She’d had to stand on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “You said no man would want to play with me if I was just beating him and getting him off. So I’ll offer you a choice. I’ll give you ten lashes with the cat and then this She-Cat will give your cock ten lashes with my tongue before I jack you off.”

“What’s my other choice?” he gritted out.

Shiori moved to his other ear. One hand gripped his hair while the other clamped onto his ass cheek. “The other choice is you on your knees with that pouty mouth all over my pussy.”

Knox turned his head and his mouth brushed her temple. “I’d rather be on my knees before you, Mistress. Let me serve you.”

She’d dropped the chains on his arms so fast he nearly fell forward from the force of it. “I don’t know who’s more anxious for this—me or you.”

He’d raised his head then, and those blue eyes blazed pure sexual fire. “I’ll prove that I am as many times as you’ll let me.”

Cocky. Shiori unhooked his wrist cuffs from the chains and massaged his arms for a moment before she pulled his arms behind his back. She stepped around him to admire her modern-day Viking—from his muscle-bound body, to his handsome face, to the barely leashed power vibrating from him as he fought against himself and his very nature to obey her.

Shiori let her skirt hit the floor and kicked it away as she moved in closer. Her bare pussy throbbed with her arousal—this man made her so hot that the insides of her thighs were soaked. She reached up and grabbed on to the bar holding the chains.

A low growl rumbled from his throat in response to her pussy mere inches away from his mouth. But he wouldn’t touch her until she gave him the go-ahead.

“Look at me,” she said softly.

His lust-clouded eyes met hers.

“Make me come so hard my knees give out. Then pick me up and do it again.” She held her breath as he dipped his head and his tongue shot out, eager to connect with her hot flesh . . .

That’s when she woke up. Heart pounding, body tight, thighs quivering, panties wet, mouth dry, and need driving out all rational thought.

She punched her pillow with frustration. When that didn’t help, she wrapped her arms around it and screamed into it.

You should’ve known it was a dream. Where else but in fantasyland would he say let me serve you?

She’d never get back to sleep now.

She threw on some old sweatpants and a T-shirt and headed to the room she’d turned into an art studio. She had a table covered with different types of paint, several easels with pictures at various stages of completion, and small finished canvases lined along the walls. She’d always wanted to paint, but her life had been so hectic before she’d resigned her position at Okada that she’d lacked the time.

Now she had time, but as she studied the paint lines on the closest canvas, she realized that old adage “practice makes perfect” wasn’t true for everything because she was a shitty artist. She hadn’t improved at all in the last few months. While that bothered her on one level, on another level, she loved the freedom of wasting time.

She cranked up the volume on the MP3 dock and indulged in her other guilty pleasure—Japanese boy bands. So she sang along as loudly as she wanted as she painted pictures of posies and wondered what the hell a therapist would make of her.

*   *   *

ALTHOUGH most of the accounting for Black Arts was done off-site, Shiori still had loose ends to tie up before the week started and she got sidetracked by her own projects.

While she was no longer working full-time in the Okada corporate offices in Tokyo, she hadn’t walked away completely. Several of their big food suppliers refused to deal with anyone at Okada besides her—she’d tried to transition them to another account specialist, but they’d threatened to pull their business. The amounts were significant, so she’d sucked it up and stayed on.

No one had asked her how long she planned to stay in the United States. The only reason she was allowed to remain here was because of her work visa. For the first time ever, being on Okada’s payroll gave her more freedom instead of less.

After getting everything in order for the accountant, she cut to the training room for cardio. Teaching meant she had to stay in better shape than ever, so she worked out in the weight room four days a week.

She’d just finished a brutal punching combination and was taking a moment to catch her breath when she heard, “There’s a rule against training in the workout room alone.”