After a long night out at some business party, the pair couldn’t wait to get home. There’d been soft touches, longing glances, little teases here and there, leaving when it was socially appropriate to make an exit. It felt like an eternity. Barely out of the vehicle, Alasdair picked her up, legs wrapping around him, lips meeting. They were both a little tipsy, the kind of feeling that made you smile, made you giddy and warm, craving affection and proximity from each other. Arms slipped around his neck as they kissed, stumbling his way up to the front door. Her back pressed into it, both distracted by the heat building, the need for one another. Getting the key in, they got inside, Alas kicking the door closed. Hands were quick to set her on the nearest table, unzipping her dress, Emma helping to remove it. She’d wanted to, at least, be naked under the dress, but he didn’t let her. The female had asked him to pick everything out, her mind in that submissive, pet-like state rather deeply enough before they even left. All she wanted was to give herself over to him, to let go of everything, always appreciating when he understood she needed it, needed him to have complete control. Tonight was like that, where she didn’t want to decide or think or process anything beyond his desires, his needs, to be Daddy’s good little pet. It was enough to make her feel heady. He took a step back, stripping her of her shoes, her bra, her panties, her garter, everything except the thigh high stockings. Eyes fixed on him, watching the way he looked at her for a good, long moment or two, watching the way hands started at her ankles, slowly trailing up her calves, her thighs. Strong fingers grasped her hips, pulling her body forward, into him, “I’m going to kiss every inch of your body,” he released her to sign the words. A heat and warmth filled her eyes, the clear desire for him etched upon her features, “Yes, Sir. I’m yours, completely, always,” lifting her back up, carrying her into the bedroom.