Chapter Thirty-Three

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    "I beg your pardon?" Aubrey smoothed down the chest revealed by his open dress shirt.

    "You heard me," she said, her voice unintentionally silky.

    He stared down at her with the beginnings of a playful smile teasing the corners of his lips. "I am not the submissive," he said.

    "Not now, you aren't."

    He leaned down and braced his arms on the armchair she sat in. He leaned in close to her. "I will never be the submissive."

    "Never say never," she returned, her eyes dropping down to his lips.

    He continued to stare at her. "We've discussed this. I don't like switching back and forth between Dominant and submissive."

    She lowered her eyes coquettishly, running her fingers up and down the armrests of the patio chair. "Permission to stand, Sir?"

    His brows drew together as he removed his hands from her chair and took a few steps back. "You may."

    She rose out of her chair and closed the distance between them in two short steps. "I seem to remember a few times when I took the reins as the Dominant. What I don't remember is you complaining about it. Quite the opposite."

    His Adam's apple bounced.

    It took all of her will power not to smile. Seeing him nervous thrilled her, maybe because he tried so hard to be in control all of the time. The minute he felt control slipping, he seemed almost vulnerable. Vulnerability, in a man who was nearly always in control, was quite an endearing trait. She dragged her eyes down every delicious inch of him, then raised her eyes back to his face, feigning innocence. "Permission to touch you, Sir?"

    His jaw tensed, and his eyes were sharp. He wasn't just looking at her; he was studying her, surveying her. The intense look in his eyes, while accompanied by lust, said that he was trying to determine what her end game was, what was driving this sudden display of dominance with only a thin layer of submission to veil it. "Permission granted," he said, his voice rough.

    She placed her hands on his chest and slid them downward. "I seem to remember you liking it whenever I took control."

    "You're in training right now," he said flatly.

    "I understand that. My suggestion was for after my training is complete."

    "You believe that I should allow you to train me?" he asked, his tone disbelieving.

    She untucked his dress shirt and slid her fingers beneath the fabric, catching her bottom lip between her teeth when her fingertips came into contact with the skin beneath. "I mean... wasn't it you who said that a submissive holds the true power?" she asked him, running her fingers across his abdomen. "A submissive chooses to submit, right? Would there be something wrong with choosing to submit to me?"

    He narrowed his eyes at her. "Destiny..."

    She rose on her tip toes while gently caressing his stomach beneath his shirt. "Yes, Sir?"

    He struggled to find the words he wanted to say.

    While he was still struggling, she asked him, "Permission to kiss you?"

    He looked away from her, sucking in his breath when she started to play with his belly button. "We're getting off-track."

    "Is that such a bad thing?"

    "For your training, it's a very bad thing. Yes."

    "That's your way of saying that you don't want me to train you," she said, settling on the balls of her feet.

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