by Riley, Alexa
His eyes roam over my body, and my nipples respond to his stare. His look is hungry, and I suddenly feel like I’m being stalked. My reaction to him is unsettling because I don’t have any control over it. I must have starved my body of sexual attraction for too long and now it’s going crazy. It doesn't help that no one has ever looked at me the way he does. Seeing his reaction feels a little empowering.
I fight the urge to cover myself with my hands, knowing he’ll only make me remove them. He would give me an order that I would instantly follow, and then wonder why it turned me on. I’m quicker to jump to his commands, and this makes me uncomfortable. I’ve always felt attraction to Charles, but now it seems my body is dying to get closer to him. It’s the exact opposite of what I was doing when I worked with him.
Pulling my eyes away from him, I try to stem these feelings rushing through my body. Just like everything else in the casino, reds and blacks cover the room. I now realize this is his place; it was right next to mine when I stayed here. We always seemed to be coming and going at the same time, but I’d never been inside his home. Seeing his bedroom somehow calms me instead of frightening me.
I examine the massive four-poster more closely, and I notice black cuffs hanging from each of the posts. Is this like his fuck pad or something? Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen him with a woman. He must bring them up here for whatever it is he does, but I'd never seen one slip out before. I wonder if he likes to dress them up too. I look up, seeing the mirror above the bed, and I want to roll my eyes. I guess he likes to watch himself fuck. I let the thought roll off me, and try to focus.
Having the angel wings back on makes me feel like an innocent trapped in the devil's lair. His sole mission is to corrupt me and bring me over to the dark side with him. Maybe it’s his kink. I hate that my body warms to the idea of all the dirty things he wants to do to corrupt me.
“Mr. Townsend, you can’t be so bad in bed that you have to restrain women to get them to stay.” I poke him because I need to get myself back on a level playing field. In the past if I landed a few jabs he would storm out of the office, so maybe I can get him to storm out of this love nest.
“With you I wasn’t sure. You seem to be good at giving me the slip. I have to make sure my property stays where it belongs.”
“Property?” I fire the word back at him with distaste, hoping that maybe that will make me hate the idea of being his property. All he does is smirk, like it's cute that I have a problem being owned. “I never gave you the ‘slip’,” I say, stressing the word to highlight its ridiculousness. “I did my thirty days and I left. Is that what this is all about? You think I shorted you a day?”
I truly thought he would be grateful when I was gone. The night in the bar before I left was strange. I thought maybe my drunken mind had made it all up, but the call from Tiffany confirmed it. So did the picture that ended up in page five of The Las Vegas Tribune.
He was always so short with me when we were together. Most of that time consisted of his hovering over me as I did my work. It was absurd, because he gave me projects an eighth grader could do.
“I wasn't finished with you yet.”
“You weren't finished with me yet?”
“That’s what I said.” He lazily starts to circle me, walking slowly around where I’m standing. He looks like he’s inspecting what he paid for.
“I could break my Mistress Contract and leave. I could give the money back. Then you’d have to be done with me.”
Something sparks in his eyes at my words—something that looks close to anger. I want to know why he’s pushing this and dragging me back here. Is this about that night in the casino? Me telling him no and making him look like a fool? Men and their egos can be a real bitch. I run into a lot of men like that working at the casino. Men like that don’t like when a woman takes them down a peg or two. But for some reason I don’t think Charles is the type of man who would care what other people think. He doesn't have an ego. He just is who he is, take it or leave it. If it’s not about his pride, it means this whole thing could have something to do with my brothers, and that problem has the potential to make me stay. If I can't get some information from Charles, I’m finally just going to have to ask my brothers what he has over them.
“But you won’t. No, you’d never go back on your word.” It’s eerie how well he knows me. Saying I would break the contract was just a way for me to try to get some information from him. I want to find out his endgame without losing myself in the process, because I’m starting to think Charles Townsend is someone I could easily drown in.
“Fine, you win. Do with me as you like. Do I strap myself in or is that your job?” I try to make my tone as flat as possible as I walk toward the bed, careful not to brush against him.
“Mandy, while I will have you in those straps soon enough, first we need to go over the rules of your Mistress Contract.”
“I read the contract several times. I know all the rules. I’m to keep my mouth shut, my legs spread, and I’m never to ask questions about your life outside of our time together.” I turn to face him, trying to pretend the rules don’t bother me in the least.
“Yes, those are the standard rules for all contracts, but each buyer is allowed to add a set of their own. Did you not see that in the contract as well?”
I did, I just forgot. This takes me by surprise, and I stop. “Yes, I’m sorry. It did say something about the buyer being allowed to add their own as long as they are approved by the auction house.” I visibly swallow when I finish. I don’t know why this has my heartbeat picking up, but it does.
Pulling out a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket, Charles walks to the corner of the room, takes a seat in a chair and lazily leans back in it. I expect him to start listing off the rules, but he just pats his leg, signaling for me to come sit on it.
I roll my eyes, but do as I’m instructed. I stroll over to him, my heels sinking into the lush carpet, and I sit, making sure I plop down heavily on him in the hopes of hurting his leg a little. I may not weigh much, but maybe my bony ass will leave a bruise. He makes no sign of distress at this. He just wraps one arm around my waist to pull me closer, pressing me into his erection. At the feel of his cock against my thigh, I’m the one who ends up gasping.
He’s huge all over, evidently—something I really do enjoy about him. He makes me feel feminine when I'm near him. His height means he always towers over me, even when I wear my most ridiculous heels. Not only that, he easily has to weigh more than two of me. Not many men make me feel small and delicate, but Charles does.
He leans in, taking my earlobe in his mouth, nuzzling me and making my eyes fall closed. It’s a sweet soft contact, but he soon bites me, making me jump and my eyes pop open.
“You fully belong to me.” He proves his point by using his free hand to cup my thinly covered pussy. “When you act like a brat, I don’t have to storm out of the room to control myself. No, now I can bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you until you apologize, and until you beg me to let you cum. I’ll make you promise to be a good little girl or I’ll keep punishing you.”
I moan at his words, pushing myself into his hand. “You like that kitten? Because I’ll fuck you on every surface of this goddamn casino until you scream the place down.”
I’m so lost in his words and in this sensation that all I can do is beg. “Please.” How does he keep doing this to me? One second I want to smack him, and the next I want him to make good on his threat. I'm going with being completely under-sexed as the reason for this. My body is ready to go and doesn’t care that my mind can't seem to keep up with it.
“Already begging. I knew you would. It’s who you are.” Before I can ask what he means, he pulls his hand out from between my legs. I bite my lip to stop myself from protesting, and watch as he picks up the paper he dropped down in the seat next to him. Pulling me a little closer, his arm tightens around me before he starts reading.
“Number one, you wi
ll at all times carry a cell phone with which I will provide you. Whenever I text or call you, you will respond immediately.”
That doesn't sound too bad. I always have my phone glued to my hand.
“Number two, you will always wear skirts or dresses with no underwear. I want nothing coming between me and what’s mine.”
I just nod my head in agreement. I also always wear skirts; it’s the best way to show off my heels, but I’ve never gone without underwear. I guess I should be thankful we live somewhere warm.
“Three, all meals are to be eaten together, and by my hand.”
“Like, you make them?” I ask, wondering about his strange wording.
“No, kitten, I mean you sit in my lap and I feed you.”
I’m starting to think I’m not going to like some of the Mistress Contract rules.
“Four, where I go, you go.” And there it is. I wouldn't have to wonder what he was up to. I would know if there was another woman, though I don't really think there would be. I’d never seen him with one before, even though they were always throwing themselves at him. But in all fairness, I didn't think he was going to bust out all this kinkery either. “Unless I tell you to be someplace else,” he finishes.
“So you want me to pretty much be your assistant again, but this time you get to fuck me when I annoy you.”
“Watch your mouth, kitten.”
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. Instead I just glare into his dark eyes, making him flash his perfect white teeth at me. It’s then it hits me that I’ve never seen him smile like that before, and I can't help but stare.
“No, you're not my assistant, I have someone for that. You’re my submissive, and I’ll want you by my side for whatever I might need—reading me my emails while I eat your pussy, sneaking you under my desk to suck my cock to get me through boring meetings, or just laying you naked across the couch in my office so I have something beautiful to stare at all day.”
I’ve heard of Dominant/submissive couples before, but that seems a little over the top, even if my body seems to find the concept intriguing. This is Vegas; everything happens here. Sex is openly talked about, and no subject is taboo. And for some reason, the first thing that pops out of my mouth is, “Do I have to wear a collar?”
I can't decide whether I want him to say yes or no. He sits and studies my face for a second.
“Yes.”
Yet another question pops out my mouth, and I wish I could take back. “Do you always collar your women?”
“No, I don’t have women.” He says the word in a tone that implies he’s annoyed I asked. “And no, I’ve never collared anyone before, but with you I seem to be a little more possessive.”
He traces his finger along my neck where the collar would be, and for some reason it makes me wish I had it on now. I’m curious how the weight of it would feel, and what it would be like to be possessed in that way.
“Speaking of the possessive tendencies I seem to have around you, that leaves me with my final two rules. You’re never speak to another man unless I grant you permission…” Before I protest, he finishes my thought for me “…Except those men you consider your family.” I should object, but those are the only men I talk to unless I’m working, and I seem not to be doing that for the time being, so the point is moot. It’s best to pick my battles with a man like Charles.
“Lastly, when we are around other people, if I don’t have a hand on you, then you must have a hand on me.” His finger continues to trace my throat like he’s outlining the collar I’ll soon wear.
“So I’m glued to you unless you dismiss me? Does that about sum up your rules?”
“I would never dismiss you,” he says softly, a hurt tone in his voice. No, maybe he wouldn't, but he does like to push until I dismiss myself. Sometimes he gets mad and storms out, but he’s never told me get out or to leave a room.
He puts the list down and wraps both arms around me, picking me up and carrying me across the room. He places me on the edge of the bed, and then removes my wings. I scoot to the middle and lie back on the soft red bedding. I’m surrounded by the silky smooth material, and my over-sensitized skin tingles at the sensation.
“Aren't these against the rules?” I pull at the string of the thong, wondering if I need to take it off. I’m being bold and I don’t care; my body is on edge. A flash of disappointment hits me when he shakes his head. My body is screaming for me to cum.
“Leave them on, kitten. I need something between us tonight.”
“You're not going to…” I let the words hang in the air.
“Not until you beg me.”
“Hmm. Then I guess this is going to be a long thirty days for you,” I retort, but even I don't believe my words.
“Oh, but you will beg me, and it will take everything in me not to cum all over myself.”
It’s crazy how easily his words make my whole body come to life. It’s so different to anything I’ve ever felt before. Charles has awoken something in me; something that has been smoldering there since the first time I met him. That first spark hit, and then it almost died when I found out who he was. Now he’s feeding it again, making it burn brighter and hotter than ever. It’s almost like he can see me better than I can see myself. More importantly, he's making me feel desired. It’s like I'm the most perfect thing he's ever seen and he’s worried I could slip from his hold. Maybe that's just how a Dominant talks, but either way, I like it.
I’m not sure what Charles is playing at, but what does it hurt to enjoy it for a little while? I want to take something for myself. I’ve spent a large chunk of my life meeting other people's needs and doing what needed to be done for others. I put myself to the back of the line, but right now, if I let myself, I could taste something I really want.
“Open your legs, kitten.”
I spread my legs wide, and I watch as Charles removes my heels, placing them on the floor. Circling to the back of the bed, his eyes never leave my body. I feel like he’s devouring me as he stares at me hungrily.
He reaches for one of the cuffs and secures my wrists to the bed. “When I’m not in the bed with you, you’ll be cuffed to it. If for some reason we go to bed at different times, I want to know your body is ready and waiting for me when I join you. Once I’m in the bed with you, you won't need to be cuffed because you’ll have me locked around you.” I feel moisture flood my pussy as he spreads my legs further apart, cuffing them too. He hasn't even really touched me yet. I think he could send me over with the slightest tap.
When he starts to walk away from the bed, I bite my tongue from calling out his name. Is he leaving me like this? I shift, trying to ease the pulse I feel in my clit, but it seems like the longer my legs are spread, the worse it gets. I have no way to stop it—only Charles can. His words about me begging for it flash through my mind, and I’m reminded of how wrong I really was.
I hear shuffling around, and then he’s back in my view, holding a black box in his hand. He stands beside the bed and opens the box to reveal a delicate necklace. It looks like a chain of rubies with a small cluster of diamonds set along every inch. There’s a large diamond set in a buckle at the front, and the clasp at the rear looks to be almost sturdy. He takes the necklace out of the box and crawls onto the bed. Straddling me, he leans over and puts it around my neck, leaving the buckle lying against my throat. I feel the weight of it around my neck, and I hear a click as he stares into my eyes. It’s a powerful moment. I can almost feel tension leave his body at the sound of the click.
“Your collar is now locked around your neck, and the only thing that can unlock it is the key I have around mine.” He reaches into his shirt and pulls a small key on a long platinum chain. I watch as he kisses it and puts it back under his shirt. “Now, kitten, it’s time for me to play with my prize.”
6
Charles
“I think it’s time for a kiss, don’t you?”
She looks at me and raises an eyebrow, like she can�
�t believe I’m serious. I give her a wicked smile and move down her body.
“Where are you going?” Her voice sounds almost panicked. When I said I wanted a kiss, I didn’t say where.
Reaching up, I take off my devil horns and throw them to the floor. I’m still fully dressed, so I back off the end of the bed and get undressed. I slowly remove my suit jacket and throw it on the chaise beside the bed. She watches me with wide eyes as I unbutton my dress shirt and remove it. I unbuckle my belt. I see her lick her lips again and it makes my cock ache for her mouth. I take off my shoes, socks, and slacks, I’m left standing in a white undershirt and black boxer briefs. My cock is so fucking hard, it’s nearly creeping out of the bottom of my underwear and down my thigh. I reach behind my neck, grabbing my undershirt and pulling it off in one quick move. I think for just a second about taking off my boxers, but if I do that, this will all be over. Fast.
Mandy never takes her eyes off me as I stand at the end of the bed, staring at her body. She’s stretched out perfectly on the king-size bed, allowing me to see every inch of her gorgeous body. I want to climb on top of her and fuck her so hard, but more than that, I want her to beg.
The cool chain of her key around my neck is a gentle reminder that she’s mine. She may think it’s only for the next thirty days, but I don’t plan on ever releasing her. One thing Mandy doesn’t know is that this isn’t a sprint for me, it’s a marathon. I plan on taking my time with her and savoring every minute we are together, and right now, there is something very sweet on her body I need to savor.
Climbing onto the bed, I move between her legs, leaning down slowly. I don’t break eye contact with her as I pull her panties to the side and press an open-mouthed kiss on her pussy lips. Her eyes close tightly at the contact, and that just won’t do.
“Eyes on me, kitten.” When she opens her beautiful dark eyes, I can see the need in them. She’s already close to the edge after everything that’s happened tonight. “I want you to lie back and look up. Watch me love this sweet pussy.”