Submission

I sat at my desk, working on a new story, but I couldn’t focus on my writing. He would be here soon. My heart beat faster at the thought. I had been with quite a few men over the years, but there was something about this one. The way he touched me. Even the way he looked at me. I was used to being in charge, calling the shots. With most men, I would pretend to defer to them to build up their ego. But with him…it was like I was on an invisible leash.

I realized my hands were clenched into fists. I released them, closed my eyes, and slowed my breathing. I was already wet. I shifted in my chair. I could take charge by starting without him. All I was wearing was my silk robe. I could—

I heard my front door open. I glanced at the time in the corner of my screen. Ten o’clock. He was exactly on time. I started typing, pretending to focus on my work. His footsteps were almost silent, but I felt him come up behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders, then kissed the top of my head, inhaling as he did so. I was conscious of not having showered that morning, but he had asked me not to; he said my scent was intoxicating.

He turned my chair around, then leaned in close. I looked into the oceans of his eyes. His scent filled my senses—not cologne,...