Despite the nearly perfect moment, my mind began to wander as we lay in bed. Even in the most peaceful of moments, I had a hard time pressing the invisible button that would turn off my thoughts for a while. My mind flashed back to the strange, Victorian house where I was brought to get cleaned up and pampered before being offered a job. I had been in a room with dozens of young women around my age. I remembered that they were young and attractive like me.
My body tensed up. Was I just one of many girls he had taken in this bedroom? Did I sleep on the same sheets that Evelyn used to lie on? What was he going to say to me that morning in Paris? I tried not to let those thoughts ruin the moment I had with Victor. I snuggled into his embrace, all too aware of how well we fit together as we lay on our sides. His hand rested on my breasts as his breath tickled my neck. I sighed and wanted nothing more than for us to stay like this forever.
But dark, lingering thoughts still wormed their way into the back of my mind, telling me that nothing could last forever.
Chapter Fifteen
The soft cloud of Victor’s sheets felt like heaven against my back. I was wearing white pearls around my neck and nothing else save the thin layer of sweat clinging to my body. Handcuffs were tightened firmly around my wrists, not really hurting unless I tried to escape—which after the past few days since first being introduced to his bedroom, I wouldn’t dream of attempting.
Victor was relentless with his torturous pleasure, and wouldn’t allow me to come unless he said so. God, it was difficult with the way he would tease my body into convulsions as I tried to restrain my impending orgasm. Ropes attached to the bed posts were tied around my ankles, forcing my legs wide open, leaving my pussy exposed for his enjoyment, and my own. When he finally let me come, I screamed as pleasure wracked my body, my voice eventually dropping to a low moan to mirror my orgasm.
I loved spending time in Victor Draper’s bedroom.
Afterwards he loosened the holds on my ankles, allowing me to gain some control of myself. The blindfold was still around my eyes, leaving me guessing as to what he would do next.
Victor sent a flurry of kisses up and down my body as I lay with my back on the bed. I wrapped my legs around his torso and pulled him down on top of me. Finding his head, I pulled at his hair and buried my face in the nape of his neck, inhaling his deep, masculine scent.
I could stay like this forever and not mind a bit.
I felt Victor pull away and kiss the tip of my nose. “We have a dinner party to go to tonight.”
My body was still reeling from pleasure. It took a moment to process what he’d said. “What was that?”
“My company is throwing a party at a hotel called The Royal in San Francisco and I want you to accompany me.” He took the blindfold off and unlocked the handcuffs before pulling them away from my wrists. My wrists were slightly red where the metal had rubbed them while I had squirmed. I had learned that I had a hard time keeping still. I blinked at him and took in the sight of his completely naked body, his perfectly shaped tight ass and his disheveled hair. His cock was still hard from sex.
“Oh, I—”
“There’s a new dress for you to wear on your bed. I expect you to be ready by six.”
“Yes, Sir.” I had been looking forward to spending more time with Victor this evening in his bedroom. It was much more enticing than being paraded around in front of strangers like a prized stallion as I was in Paris, but I kept my mouth shut. If I wanted to stay under his roof, he had the final authority. And after a few nights in his bedroom, I knew I never wanted to leave.
Later, when I walked into my bedroom I spotted a light blue dress on the bed. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the intricate lacework on the sleeves and skirt as well as the tiny beads woven in and out of the fabric. No matter how many dresses or jewelry Victor had given me, I was always awestruck when presented with them. I was curious as to how much everything cost, but I didn’t dare ask for fear of feeling guilty over wearing such a lavish garment.
Just like the other clothes Victor had given me, the dress fit like a dream. As I looked in the mirror, I noticed the fabric hugged in all the right places and showed my figure off perfectly. The white pearls hung right above my neckline, which showed just a hint of my cleavage underneath. The dark blue heels fit comfortably. I walked around my room in them as though I were walking around barefoot.
The fact that I used to stumble around in such shoes seemed like a distant memory.
***
Thirty minutes later we were driving over the long bridge that led us into San Francisco. I hadn’t stepped foot in the city since the night I arrived at Victor’s mansion. The city’s beauty and charm shone through in a different way than I ever remembered. It had been an amazing few months; I had changed so much. The hills and old Spanish buildings that had previously been so oppressive now seemed beautiful. By the time Oscar parked in front of a hotel illuminated in the night by bright, yellow lights, the nerves I had been harboring regarding the evening had mostly disappeared.
I stepped out of the car and smiled to myself.The party was held towards the back of the building in a fancy banquet room that extended with wide open French doors to the courtyard gardens. There were already crowds of people socializing in small groups. The room hushed for a moment as Victor made his appearance. Although I wasn’t looking at anyone directly, I could tell that their eyes were on me, wondering who the new girl was. I felt my upper back and neck begin to tense as they always did when I started to feel nervous, and Victor gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. As people began greeting Victor, the room turned back to the buzzing chatter of before. I relaxed and took a deep breath; all I had to do was look pretty, smile, and give short answers to questions when people decided to give me a moment of attention.
As soon as I saw a server, I grabbed a glass of white wine just so I could have something to do with my hands while Victor talked to an endless stream of people about topics that went way over my head. As the wine hit my system, I felt myself relax a bit more, and I was actually starting to enjoy my time mingling with these rich, successful people, even if my job was to just smile and laugh with them every now and then. I lost count of how many women stared longingly at Victor, even those who were obviously with their husbands or boyfriends. They annoyed me, but I would still smile at them pleasantly when they looked my way, which in turn would cause them to blush or look away. I think I had too much fun with that.
One couple came up to Victor with a more familiar posture than the rest. The woman was older than Victor by at least ten years, but she still held herself gracefully, her brown hair done up in a tasteful chignon hanging over an expensive midnight blue dress and framing her bright green eyes. She seemed to be the one who knew Victor. On her arm was a boyish looking man no older than I was. He was several inches shorter than Victor with unblemished olive skin and black hair combed to the side but falling carelessly down toward his eyes.
Sure enough, it was the woman who spoke first as they approached. “Victor, how are you,” she said warmly. “It’s been far too long.”
“Catherine,” Victor said, matching her tone, “I agree. You look wonderful.”
She smiled. I liked her. She was warm but not threatening.“Thank you, dear. And who is this you’ve brought with you?”
Victor’s arm slid around my waist as he squeezed me toward him. “This is Dove.”
Her gaze directed towards me. “And what do you do, Dove?”
I looked toward Victor, but he was looking back at me expectantly. “I’m a painter.”
I saw the man at Catherine’s side shoot his eyebrows up. Before he could speak, Catherine shrieked with delight. “Oh how lovely! Pedro is a graduate student in painting at San Francisco State.” She looked at Pedro. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? Victor and Dove, this is Pedro.”
“Nice to meet you,” Pedro said, in an accent thick enough that I figured he probably wasn’t from the United States. He shook Victor’s hand firmly.
When he shook mine, he looked directly into my eyes. His were a coffee brown.
“Pedro, honey, why don’t you go talk to Dove about painting for a few minutes while I talk privately with Victor? We have something important to discuss.”
We all looked at Victor, whose mouth turned in conflict for a moment before he shook it free. “Of course,” he said, giving my back a quick squeeze. “Dove, I’ll come find you in a moment.”
He turned and walked across the room, Catherine in tow. Pedro offered me his arm. “We can walk in the garden,” he said. “It’s much prettier outside.”
I took it and grabbed a glass of white wine from a passing waiter with my other hand. Pedro wasn’t as attractive as Victor, but it felt good to know I could get attention from other men too. It made me feel beautiful.
Feeling the wine working through my system, I decided to be bold and speak first. “So where are you from, Pedro?”
“Santiago, Chile,” he said with pride. “It’s the capital. I just came here to study painting last August. It’s nice being here, but I’m going to return home when I’m done.”
His accent made following his words a challenge, but I felt exotic talking to him, as if I were back in Paris. “And where did you meet Catherine?”
He shook his head and smiled, his teeth bright white. “Did you learn to paint in school?”
So he didn’t want to talk about Catherine. “No,” I said. “It’s just something that seems to come naturally to me. To be honest I’m not sure where it comes from.”
“Ah yes, I know what you mean. It’s beautiful when it just comes like that. To be a natural. I am jealous. What do you like to paint?”
“Everything, but especially people.”
“I see. Maybe you can paint my portrait some time.”
I laughed with pleasure. That did sound fun, and it would be great to have another friend in my life. Before I could ask him what he painted, I heard a familiar voice from behind us.
“Dove, there you are!” Victor said, a little too eagerly. He grabbed my arm holding the wine roughly so I almost spilled it on my dress.
“Victor!” I cried. “Pedro and I―”
“We have to go,” Victor said before I could finish. “Pedro, it was wonderful meeting you. Catherine just went to the ladies room. You should probably wait for her there.” We turned and left.
“Victor, what’s going on?”
He took my half-finished wine glass from my hand and put it on an empty tray. Still holding my arm tightly, he steered me through the rest of the party and out to the waiting car without a word. Confused thoughts tumbled in my head the entire way. Had I said something wrong? Was there an emergency having to do with Catherine? Could he actually be jealous of me talking to Pedro for a few minutes?
The last thought made me fume. I had a right to talk to people other than him. When we got into the car, he let me in first then followed close behind and shut the door. I turned to confront him. “Victor,” I started, “what―”
Before I could continue, his mouth sealed over mine, his tongue invading my mouth and caressing my own with lush slides. The kiss was slow and sensuous, not like the kisses he had given me after he had seen his wife. That night he had been a lightning ball sending off sparks everywhere. This time he had control.
With one arm, he picked me up from where I sat and turned me so I was lying across the seat on my back. My arms went up and my hands interlocked behind his neck. He broke the kiss long enough to tell Oscar to drive around for a while over the intercom, then turned back to face me, his arms straight on either side of my head to support his weight.
“Dove,” he said, “could you ever want anyone else?”
I took a deep breath and got up my energy to yell, to tell him I could have other friends and talk to other people without him having to own me every second. But when I looked up in his eyes, I saw a different kind of rawness than I had witnessed when he had seen his wife in Paris. He was still the same strong man I recognized before, but the question was genuine. He really wanted to know, and he really wasn’t sure.
“I only want you,” I said. “But―”
“That’s all I wanted know, Dove,” he said. “We’ll talk about the rest later.” With that he shifted so his weight was on one elbow, freeing his other hand. His fingers trailed up my leg. “For now, we’re busy.”
He traced his fingers to my panties and touched me gracefully as he kissed me hard on the mouth. I gasped into his lips at the sudden jolt of sensation so soon after I had been ready to be mad at him, tasting the red wine he had been drinking at the party. My fingers found his hair and I pulled him closer to me, taking in his scent. As my underwear shifted around, I quickly realized how wet I was. To my relief, I quickly felt his fingers come up over the drenched garment’s waistband. I eased my hips up to let him take them off.
I was exposed to him. I waited with anticipation for what he would do next, each second heightening my arousal. In the silence of the moment, I noticed the controlled way he was breathing. I imagined the hardness of the bulge of his pants, though I couldn’t see it from where I lay.
He bent down and kissed my ear, his tongue teased lightly before his lips came together to nip the kiss closed. From there he brushed his lips slowly down my neck to my chest, kissing my breasts through my dress. As he moved lower still, I realized what he was going to do and thrust my fingers into his hair, waiting eagerly. My hips rocked toward his tongue.
He pinned them down with his forearm and held me there. When I opened my eyes and looked down at him, his eyes were locked on my face like they were trying to hold me still. I met his gaze for several seconds before he dove down and I closed my eyes.
My body erupted with pleasure as I felt his tongue work around my pussy. He was clearly an expert; the way he alternated between using light and heavy touches, the tip and flat of his tongue, established a rhythm while providing enough variety that I didn’t know what was coming next. I squirmed and shifted against him, building toward an orgasm I was anticipating greedily.
Suddenly he stopped. I felt him move back to my ear and suck on it slowly, his tongue mimicking the motion my pussy had been feeling seconds earlier.
“What do you want?” he whispered.
You. I opened my eyes and reached for his crotch, wanting to pull him out and make him feel as desperate and needy as I did, wanting to exert the same control over his body that he seemed to have over mine.
“I want you to fuck me, Sir,” I breathed.
He moved himself out of my grasp and kissed my neck agonizingly slowly. “Tell me what you want me to fuck you with.”
I felt my wetness on the leather seat beneath me. The burning throb of needing to fuck him had moved from my core to encompass every inch of me, from my tongue in his mouth to my toes curling in my shoes. I reached for the bulge in his pants again, giving his cock a squeeze and felt it shudder through his pants. The heat of his arousal pushed me closer to the edge as he pulled his hips away from my hand yet again. I heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down and instantly reached for his heavy cock and balls, feeling them in my hand before attempting to guide him into my aching pussy.
“Please Sir,” I gasped, “your cock. Put your cock in my pussy. I want it n―”
Before I could finish, he plunged into me, his cock hard with lust. I moaned into his neck, tasting the sweat over his shirt collar, wanting to bite it down to get to more of his skin. I almost came. I fought it down, nearly tearing up with the effort.
He moved in and out a few times slowly and deeply, his gaze moving up from my legs to my eyes. I ripped down the knot of his plum tie and worked the buttons of his shirt so I could run my hands across his bare chest. He had never had sex with me like this. A warm look slowly developed on his face as his eyes softened.
“You’re not going to come before I say so, are you Dove?”
It was difficult to stay on top of my impending orgasm, but I wanted to so badly that I managed
. I felt my breath heavy as I tried to speak. “No, Sir,” I managed.
One of his hands traced its way from my collarbone to my nipple, lazily circling around before pinching it between thumb and finger. The slight bit of pain registered as he kept pumping slowly and brought memories of our evenings in his bedroom. I sank my nails into the muscles around his neck as his skin grew ever more slick and hot. When I brought my hand up to the side of his neck, I felt his heart pumping, bringing to mind the pulse I suddenly could not avoid feeling in my own chest.
“I’ve shown you that good things come to those that wait, haven’t I?”
“Yes, Sir,” I moaned.
I brought my hands down to his arms to feel the muscles there as he moved his hand away from my nipple down my torso, teasing me with the lightness of his touch. Every nerve I had was on end and begging for release. Every millimeter of my skin was waiting for the next sensation he would give me.
He pinned my arms over my head as his pace finally began to increase. One hand kept my arms in place while his other settled with fingers splayed and his thumb just over my clit. Each thrust was a new battle not to lose control. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. My breath became shallow and quick as I fought to keep down the orgasm that was begging to come to the surface.
“Are you ready, Dove?”
I hadn’t realized it was possible for him to fuck me more deeply than he had been before, but he began to do it now. I began to quiver around him, my skin burning. I nodded.
“I can’t hear you,” he said quietly as he began to thrust faster. He kissed my ear quickly then brought his face back up over mine, his breath inches from my lips.
I tried with three successive breaths to say “Yes,” but each time I sucked it in to fight down my orgasm. I was going to fail this time. Tears formed in my eyes.
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