Opps...put the first draft in the wrong spot
I think I put the first draft in the wrong spot...sorry. Here's after using spell check and proof reading, I hope I caught most:
Waking up, Kissy was confused. There were arms around her: large, strong, masculine arms. As she gently rolled over to see the owner of these extremities, the memories of last night flooded her. Oh, right, she thought. As she lays there she tries to analyze the situation. As her mind was being inundated with mass amounts of emotions, she decided that she must do something, she needed time to think.
Carefully removing herself from his grasp, she began the search for her clothes. Finding them wrinkled, ripped, and stained, she realized she couldn't wear them. As she set her clothes down on the bed, she saw his clothes folded neatly on a chair near by. She grabbed his shirt and put it on.
Inhaling deeply she could smell him. God he smelled good, a cross of deep masculine musk and his spicy cologne. Taking one last look at the man who had assaulted her to her hearts content last night, she left the room.
Jon woke up to an empty bed. He saw that last night wasn't a dream by the rumpled bed clothes and a set of ruined woman's clothes sitting on the foot of the bed. But where was this naked woman? Getting up, he put on his dirty pants, feeling the stiffness of the material where his fluids last night had left their remains. Failing to find his shirt, he shrugged and went to the bathroom.
After a shortened morning routine, he made his way to the kitchen, praying there wasn't an officer waiting to dine with him. He went too far last night, but damn it she enjoyed it too. Morning afters were a bitch.
Coming down the stairs in the kitchen, he was stunned. On his table sat serving for two of omelets, toast, juice, and even fresh fruit. Looking around he saw a delectable little rump peaking out from his shirt as she bent into his fridge.
As Kissy turned around she nearly dropped the jelly she was holding. Ok, perhaps she realizes last night was good for her. Hell, when was the last time a woman cooked breakfast for him? It must have been sensational for her too.
Not knowing what to say to him, Kissy avoided looking directly at him and his glorious masculine chest. Did I go to far making breakfast? He doesn't look pleased. Stealing her nerves she cast a glance at his face. Expelling a breath of relief, she thought, well he looked hungry for her rather than his food. That's good, right?
Still not exchanging a word, Jon sat at the table as she added the last of the condiments. When she began to pull out a chair for herself, Jon decided to play it to the hilt and see how she'd react. "Did I say you could sit with me?"
She looked startled, although Jon couldn't decide whether it was from the broken silence or the words that were spoken. After a painful second, she pushed the chair back to the table and went to stand by the counter. So far so good. "When I speak to you pet, answer me."
The whispered reply was quiet and shook with fear and something else, "Sorry, Sir. I didn't know what to say. I will try to do better in the future for you."
This was almost too good to be true for Jon. "Next time speak up, pet. Now come kneel by me so I can feed you." For a split second he thought she'd refuse, but to his surprise, she kneeled beside him, even if her eyes said she wanted to murder him.
After eating about half of his plate, he pulled hers toward him and put some of the delicious omelet on a fork and started to feed her. Stroking her soft snarled hair every once in a while. She was a true gift.
Kissy couldn't believe she was being fed like this, nor could she comprehend why she felt treasured while he was humiliating her this way. When done, he got up. Was she supposed to get up too? He hadn't said anything. So she sat their in the straining silence while he cleared the table, put the dishes in the washer, and acted as if she wasn't kneeling here by his chair half naked.
After a few more minutes the strain on her nerves almost made her cry out and demand he explain what was happening. As she battled the war for control inside, he was watching her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but it became clear in her mind that she desperately needed to please this man. If it pleased him for her to sit like a dummy then by gosh she'd sit here until the floor rotted away.
Jon couldn't believe what he was seeing. He saw the war in her eyes. He could see the desperation of her wanting to get up, to speak, to do something. He also saw her need for him. This amazed him, 24 hours ago she had been just a vanilla girl, wanting to explore herself. Today she was going to start the transition to being his slave. He knew then that he'd keep her as long as she'd allow.
