Seven Days - The Beginning (Jess & Liam's Story, #1)

by Fanny Lee Savage

  “What if you don’t like what you see?”

  “So far, I very much like what I see,” Sir says. “I have yet to see a woman, whether she be twenty-two or forty-two, I haven’t liked to look at. Women are beautiful.”

  “How old are you?” I ask. I realize I know nothing about him, just that he endured a far worse trauma than I did at the hands of someone he trusted. That is a hell of a secret to hand someone.

  “Does it matter how old I am?”

  “Well, I’d feel weird if you were old enough to be my father.”

  He lets out that sexy, breathy laugh again. “I’m thirty-three. Is that too old?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Good,” he says, but I’m not sure if his praise is because I remembered to answer correctly or if it is because I don’t mind he’s eleven years older than me. “Now, lower your arms and put your hands behind your back.”

  I nod, my heart stammering, then remember that is wrong. “Yes, Sir,” I croak and slowly pull my arms away. I intertwine my fingers like we agreed on last night and clench my jaw.

  “Don’t ever cover yourself again, Jess,” Sir says. “You are beautiful. Never be ashamed of the way you look. I like to look at you.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I nod.

  “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

  “Just the last guy who tried to get in my pants.”

  He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Who was that?”

  “A guy I kind of dated.” I have no idea why I’m spilling my secrets. I think I’m nervous and trying to delay the inevitable outcome of our day together. “It was a while ago. I gave him head and—”

  “You’ve—” He seems to be looking for the right word. “Madam made it sound as if you were inexperienced in all avenues.”

  “Well, all of them but that one,” I tell him. His tone is weird, not quite like he’s upset, but not level either. “Sir.” I throw it in there, trying to appease him.

  “You’ve given oral, but you’ve never received it?” Sir asks.

  I’m not sure what to make of his response. It sounds like disbelief. “No, Sir. Just—you touched me.” And, he didn’t ask for anything. “Do you want me to—you know—now?”

  He doesn’t answer. We just stand in silence and all I hear is his breathing. I’ve decided after a minute I’ve broken all of our rules and now he’s upset. For some reason, this bothers me. I don’t want him upset. I want him to like me.

  Why do you care if he likes you? Because I need him to.

  His silence scrapes at my brain. “Are you upset with me?”

  “Stop chewing on the inside of your cheek,” Sir says.

  I take a breath, unaware of what I had been doing.

  “No, Jess, I’m not upset with you.”

  I sag in relief.

  “Why would your offer upset me?” Sir asks.

  “You were quiet.”

  “I want your trust before I shove my dick in your mouth.”

  If I could open my eyes, his vulgar expression would have made them double in size. I release a long hiss from between my teeth.

  “You liked that.” It’s a statement. “You like the idea of pleasing me?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “No, Sir.”

  “You want my approval that badly, Jess?”

  I can’t even roll my eyes properly, the mask is too tight. “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Then why do you want to suck a complete stranger’s dick?”

  “You’re not a total stranger,” I say. “Besides, after last night, we’re practically best friends.”

  “A friend who you didn’t want to see your breasts, but you’ll suck off?”

  I curl my lip. His tone is changing, but it’s hard to determine where it’s going to end up. “No.”

  “You’re sending mixed signals, Jess,” Sir says and he’s gone into full blown irritated. “You don’t owe me. I don’t owe you. I please you, it pleases me. We are going to be a team. I am here to teach you how to unlock yourself. You are by no means obligated to stay here if you believe I simply want you to suck me off.”

  “That is not what I meant,” I say and unlock my hands.

  “Incorrect!” he growls, and I flinch and step back.

  “You don’t have to yell.” My voice shakes a bit. I move my hands up and grip the ribbon at the back of my head.

  “Incorrect,” he says, coldly. “We made a deal, Jess.”

  I tug at the ribbon and Sir grips my waist and spins me around as the mask falls. He shoves me forward, to the end of the bed, and the footboard hits my thighs.

  “Bend over.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to spank you,” Sir hisses. “When you defy me, you are disciplined.”

  Sir grips my hair, but it’s not painful, just firm and my head moves towards the bed as he forces—no not forces, I could easily break free. He pushes me until I’m bent over the edge. I hold myself up, resting on my forearms, taking short breaths. He doesn’t let go, but he doesn’t move either. Sir just stands behind me, holding my hair, the button of his jeans digging into my ass, keeping me in place. My heart skips and I try to remember my safeword.

  Peaches. I can say peaches and he has to let go, but he’s not hurting me. He’s only keeping me still and threatening to spank me. My belly clenches at the thought. There is no denying the intense sexual undertones to this, so I keep my word in my mouth.

  Madam said disciplining led to rather satisfying experiences and, by the way, his pants are digging into me, he’s pretty thrilled at the idea. I’m still see-sawing back and forth, swallowing my safe word and waiting him out. Now that I can see, the bed with black sheets, the room glowing in a halo of bronzed light, it makes the situation I’m in suddenly very real.

  Sir backs away and runs a palm over my ass. I stiffen and grip the black sheets under me. His hand leaves and lands with a light whack on my butt. It’s so light, barely even worthy of being called a spanking, and I start to laugh. All the muscles in me loosen and I sag into the bed.

  I cry out as his palm lands again, but this time it’s harder and stings a bit. I stop laughing, too.

  “That is for not presenting yourself to me, the way I asked,” Sir says. His palm lands down again and it’s just slightly harder than the last. “That is for covering yourself.”

  “Ah!” Another one and this one stings.

  Jesus.

  “That was for taking your mask off.” Sir leans over, my hair still in his fist and his jeans press into my ass, the hardness of him rubbing against me. My God, he likes this. I grip the sheets, aware I’m gasping for air and squeezing my thighs together. His warm breath falls over my ear as he bends in closer. Every part of me ceases to move, my pulse throbbing, right between my legs. Sir slides his hand over my panties, rubbing my still stinging backside. His touch is soft, almost tender. A weird and rather confusing contrast to what he just did. I feel his head lean on my back and he groans as his grip loosens on my hair. Sir sags on top of me, completely pinning me to the bed. “I’m sorry.”

  “What?” I ask. Why is he apologizing? Did he do something wrong? He’s supposed to be leading me and if he apologizes, then—

  “I’m an asshole.”

  His hand lands on the bed next to my arm. This is the first I’ve seen of him besides his shoes. The skin is tanned like he spends a lot of time outside. Long, thin fingers—artistic looking—strong and skilled.

  “I don’t understand,” I tell him. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, Jess. I made a mistake,” he says with a pained voice. Sir backs away and I stand upright. I start to turn but stop. We made a deal. He was to have two days and then I could see him. I squeeze my eyes closed, knit my fingers together, and turn.

  “What are you doing?” Sir asks.

  �
��I’m trying to be submissive.”

  He doesn’t say anything so I continue. “I need you to like me. I don’t have time for anyone else if you don’t.” Tears stab at my eyes and I squeeze them tighter.

  “Why don’t you have time, Jess?”

  “I just don’t,” I whisper. A damn tear spills out and rolls dramatically down my cheek—perfect timing. I don’t want his sympathy. My heart hammers against my ribs. “I just need you to make me good enough so that the next guy will want me so bad he pays to teach me how to have good sex.”

  “Wait—what?”

  Full blown, nose bubbling ugly, ‘I’m scared out of my mind and I don’t know what I’m doing’ tears slide over my cheeks. One after another. Just perfect.

  “Open your eyes, Jess,” Sir says and wipes my face.

  “No, Sir.”

  “You need to explain what is going on.”

  This throws me off and I almost open my eyes, but I clench my jaw, trying to keep from falling into complete hysteria mode. He doesn’t know? How can he not know?

  “Who is going to pay to teach you how to have sex?” he asks. His voice rises a bit, edging towards urgent and I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter to keep from opening them.

  “Whichever one of you guys bids highest.”

  I hear a slow, deep intake of air like he’s filling his lungs. He remains quiet.

  “Will it be you?” Suddenly, none of it seems so bad if it would be him to win the bid. I don’t know why I’ve taken to him. Maybe because he gave me my first orgasm brought on by another person. Maybe it’s because he’s warm and smells good, and he said he was sorry for being an ass—though I’m still not sure what he did. I researched this crazy stuff a bit more in depth last night. I’m not stupid, at least not an outright fool. I didn’t listen and he was teaching me a lesson.

  “Will what be me, Jess?” Sir asks, “I want you to tell me why you are here.”

  I nod, suddenly needing to tell him. “Madam says after this training, she will start an auction to her VIP members—some group of Four—I think you, right? This guy gets to continue my training and—” For some reason, it just seems crass now that I’m telling him. “And, you know, teach me about sex and how to be—good at it.”

  “She’s selling your virginity.” Sir isn’t asking me. “Fuck, Jess. Why would you do that?”

  I don’t answer.

  “For the money? Are you in trouble?” His concern leaks out with his words and my tears start again. “Jess, tell me.”

  “I just need money by Friday,” I tell him. “Madam said I’ll make it easy.”

  “Don’t you have a job?” Sir asks. His voice is getting edgy again, he’s irritated and this time I know it's directly aimed at me.

  “Kind of.”

  “How can you kind of have a job?”

  “I don’t start for two weeks and it won’t help anyway.”

  A smooth palm runs over my arm, he grips my elbow and pulls me forward. I’m surprised when his arms wrap around me and he squishes me to his chest. Sir’s chin rests on my head and he hugs me. I unwind my fingers and let my arms fall to my sides. “I’m not letting you do this, Jess.”

  I pull back, but he cups the back of my head and keeps my face pressed to his chest.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you since I first saw you,” he says. “And then, God, it was like a dream seeing you again. I almost thought I’d made you up. Like I was losing my mind. I thought I’d hit the jackpot.”

  My pulse throbs. I try to back away, but he holds me tighter.

  “Wait,” Sir says but it sounds like a plea. “I’m going to talk to Madam. I’ll bid highest, whatever you need. I’m not letting anyone near you.”

  “Really?” The tears start again, I really need to get a grip.

  “How much?”

  “Twenty-two thousand?”

  “That’s it?” He almost yells. “You were going to auction your body—your first time, to some man you never met for twenty-thousand?”

  “Madam said she’d start the bid at fifty,” I confess, like raising the price is somehow better.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with her,” he grumbles and his grip loosens. “Why do you need this?”

  “I just do.”

  “I’d like to know what I’m paying for.”

  “A debt.” Actually, he’s paying for me, but it’s irrelevant at this point.

  He sighs. “I want you to look at me.”

  I start to move, but he grips me again.

  “But before you do, I want one more thing.”

  I nod, “Okay.”

  “I want to kiss you again.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Eye’s closed?”

  I squeeze them tighter and back away.

  He presses his lips to mine and forces his tongue past my lips. It's just as hot, and a bit more desperate than when he kissed me last night. Sir gathers me in his arms and places me on the bed, never breaking away. The bed sheets feel cool under my burning skin as he lays me out underneath him. I hate that he does, but he pulls away and I moan, trying to pull him back. Never in my life have I been kissed this way, and I want more—all the time. To always have access to his lips.

  Sir grips my wrists and pins them to the bed next to my head. He moves between my legs and I lift my hips to rub my clit on his hard dick hidden in his pants. “Fuck, Jess. You are killing me.”

  I grin and hear his sexy laugh. I try to move my hands, but he grips them tighter.

  “Before you open your eyes, promise you’ll remember that kiss,” Sir says. “I know you feel it too.”

  “I’m not going to forget it anytime soon.”

  He mumbles something under his breath, then, “Jess. I’m sorry.”

  I don’t like his tone. There is a hint of genuine remorse, underlined with severe stress. I recognize the stress tone. I’ve been using it for days.

  “Before you open your eyes, I’m telling you I’m going to help you and I’m not allowing anyone else to have you,” he says. “You’re mine.”

  Now I laugh; it’s so cliché. “Yes, Sir. Mr. Dom, Sir.” My eyes blink open, and at first all I see are antique gold eyes before I see past them to the layer of fear. I blink again and past the fear lies the apologetic look.

  My trainer Dom—the man who gave me an orgasm in a kinky sex den and then promised to pay off my debt by buying my virginity, then kissing me, stealing my breath and I’m pretty sure part of me, is none other than my soon to be boss.

  Mr. Liam Firth.

  Chapter 8

  I want to yell. No. Not yell. I want to scream. Rip his hair out, bite him, tear at his lying deceitful mouth, but he has me gripped so tightly, I can’t move. I try to buck, but his pelvis grinds into me.

  “I know you’re mad,” Firth says. “You have every right to be.

  There is a point where the mind goes past mad and blind rage takes over. Red-hot blistering anger in its purest form. It’s so engulfing that it actually calms and suddenly I stop moving and just lie still.

  “I can explain,” Firth says.

  I close my eyes and start to count backward from twenty. My mother’s addict logic says this will make any moment when I’m too stressed bearable. Give my brain a breather and focus on not kicking his balls up into his throat.

  “I saw you in that box and I thought, there is no way that is Ms. Caughlin. I just saw her. She’s smart and beautiful and young and then you took the mask off—”

  “And, what?” I snap. “You thought ‘oh good, I’m going to fuck her chances at a real life and pay to play with her!’”

  “No!” Firth leans up and, honestly, I don’t know if it’s because he’s a man, or if he actually finds me attractive, but he looks down at my breasts. Now, I remember in a moment of explicit horror my breasts are uncovered and pointing straight up to my boss’s face.

  “Get off me.” I don’t ask. It’s a command and amazingly he listens. Firth flops over onto the
bed next to me and I scramble up covering myself. I grab my clothes I folded and placed on a chair, then slam the bathroom door behind me. I slide my shirt over my head and the bathroom door opens. Liam walks in and shuts it, leaning against the painted wood and successfully trapping me. “Get out.”

  “Incorrect.”

  I pause in the middle of sliding my leg into my jeans, his stern answer tickling somewhere in the back of my head. I realize in less than twenty-four hours, I was well on my way to being trained. How did he manage this? What is wrong with me?

  “Get out,” I say again, but my voice cracks with the telltale sign of a crushed pride and scorching hurt.

  Liam sags back, his entire body slumping down. “I made a huge mistake. I was scared once you saw who I was, you would freak and leave. Madam told us you were here for a special reason and all I could think of was how insanely lucky I was that you wanted to learn this.”

  “You think I’m here because I want to learn to do this stuff?”

  “What else was I supposed to think? Though the less than a week timeline threw me off. I thought maybe you were trying to learn quickly before your time was taken up by work.” Liam pauses and makes a deep thinking face that blossoms into ‘I’m an idiot for, not seeing this sooner’ expression. “Madam seemed concerned even though she just met you. Madam is a good woman, she’s spent her life helping women and if she was trying to push you on just her VIP, then that means you are in need of protection. She knows how possessive we get.” He connects the dots in his sexy head and looks back at me. “What kind of trouble are you in Jess?”

  “It doesn't matter, you’re my boss!”

  He grimaces. “I wasn’t thinking about being your boss.”

  “You were thinking with your dick! You shouldn’t have touched me!” I yell. Oh no. I sink down, my leg half in my pants, and sit on the white tiled floor. I let my boss touch me. Bring me to orgasm. I put my head in my hands and tears pour out. He doesn’t realize he just stole my one chance of getting out of this crummy life. “You’re my boss.”

  “Not yet,” Liam says, desperation edging his tone and kneels in front of me. “You haven’t signed any paperwork, so technically you’re not yet an employee. At the moment, we are two consenting adults who are highly attracted to each other.”