“I’d tell you to come in, but you’re already here.”
“The doors were open.” I point behind me.
“Shut them.”
I follow his orders and amble up to his side, hanging my head. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
He takes a generous sip and says nothing for a moment, just looks down at the traffic below.
“Why did you cry this morning, Bellamy?” he asks after a period of deafening silence. “I promised I’d never abuse or humiliate you, and I need to know what to do so it doesn’t happen again.”
“The accusation involving the family friend,” I say. “And the condescending tone. They were hurtful.”
“My delivery,” he says, “isn’t agreeable with everyone all the time. It’s something I’m aware of and something I have no intentions of overhauling anytime soon. But I respect that I should choose my words a bit more carefully around you. I’ll work on that.”
He leaves his empty glass on the window ledge, and I pick it up because it seems like something a sub might do. At the wet bar I rinse it out, pat it dry, and place it upside down on a towel.
When I return to his desk, where he’s staring vacantly ahead at his computer screen like he’s checked out, my heart aches. I’m sure it has to do with his uncle, but I wish he’d open up so I could at least be there for him.
“Everything okay?” I run my hands behind my thighs, tucking in my skirt, and take a seat across from him.
His gaze lifts from the screen to me, and his brows furrow as he pulls in a heavy breath.
“Take off your shirt,” he orders. “Take everything off.”
My nipples wake in response to his command, and my fingers trail my buttons, popping them one by one as he pulls a black satin ribbon from his top desk drawer. It’s the same one from the pink box yesterday, and he uncoils it in his hand before rising and coming toward me.
“Stand.” There’s a desperate, hurried undertone in his single, biting word. And he moves like a man who’d do anything to feel an ounce of something normal again – whatever normal might mean to him.
The moment my clothes are lying in a heap on the floor, he turns me around, taking my wrists behind my back and tying them together with the smooth ribbon. With his hand gripping the bend of my elbow, he leads me to a leather-wrapped Chesterfield sofa and presses me into a seated position.
His fingers work his button and zipper until his fully erected cock is mere inches from my face. We lock gazes for a second, and he holds the tip of himself up to my mouth. My lips part as I accept his velvet smoothness into my mouth. My tongue runs the underside of his head, dragging along the ridges and coming back to swirl the tip. With my hands tied tight, I can’t control my movements as well, and I have to rely on the steady bucking of his hips to keep the momentum going.
But maybe that’s the point. His whole world is falling apart, at least I assume, and he needs to control everything about this situation.
My mind reminds me to stop psychoanalyzing him and suck his cock. I’m not here to figure him out, and clearly I’m nothing more than a couple of holes to fill to him.
“Harder,” he says, thrusting deeper into my mouth. It wasn’t like this the last time, and it takes everything I have not to gag. The head of his cock hits the back of my throat with every insertion, and my eyes water.
It was fun last time. This is unpleasant. At least it’s not painful.
His hand grips my chin, pressing my mouth tighter around his engorged erection and creating a tighter seal as he pumps himself into me. His cock writhes and unloads, and the warmth of his orgasm drips down my throat. He’s too deep in my throat for me to even taste.
When Dane’s finished, he pulls himself from my mouth and zips up before sitting down next to me and untying my wrists. I wipe the tear tracks from my cheeks, hoping he doesn’t think he made me cry.
“You know, Angel, if you’re ever not comfortable with something, you just need to say stop. That’s your safeword.”
“I know.” The ceiling fan above blows cool air on my naked body, and I clutch the sides of my arms as I hunch into a ball.
“There may be times,” he says, “when I push you, test your limits. There might be times when I’m craving more of an intense experience with you.”
I nod.
Dane removes his jacket and slips it over my shoulders before reclining back into the Chesterfield. He reaches for my arm and pulls me on top of him.
Are we cuddling right now?
“It’s important,” he says, “after intense moments, to offer you comfort. Help bring you down a bit. It would be extremely irresponsible of me to fuck your mouth until you gag and then send you on your way.”
His hand spreads his coat over my backside like a blanket, and my bare flesh is flush with his white button down. The warmth of his skin permeates the barrier and soaks into me.
“You did excellent.” His palm cups my ass and hoists me into him, deeper.
I know none of this is supposed to be romantic, but it’s a sweet gesture, and I could lie here all afternoon and not move and be perfectly content.
“You’re coming to Golden Oak Saturday,” he says, combing his fingers through the ends of my tangled hair. “You’ll be staying the evening at my estate just outside of the city.”
The bar-be-que. Cortland’s parents are coming over Saturday.
“Oh? This Saturday?” I stall, trying to think of an excuse. “That’s kind of short notice.”
“You have plans?”
“Family plans,” I say. “We’re having a cookout.”
His lips curl. “This is a bit more important than a family cookout.”
“I have no doubt,” I say. “But we have company coming, and I’m not sure I can get out of this.”
“What time?”
“I don’t know. Probably noon?”
“Okay, so you should have no problem doing both.” Dane cups my ass and leans into my ear. “And I’m not entirely sure why I’m allowing you to argue with me right now and speak to me without addressing me properly, but consider yourself lucky I’m not getting the gloves out again.”
I smile into his chest, where he can’t see.
“What if my car isn’t fixed by this weekend?” I know for a fact I won’t be able to hitch a ride to some mansion Saturday night. I couldn’t come up with a plausible excuse even if I tried.
Dane sits up, gently pressing me off him, and I miss his warmth in an instant.
“I was going to wait, but since you brought it up.”
He is not giving me a car. There’s no way.
He strides to his desk, opening the second middle drawer on the left and pulling out a set of keys with some weird green emblem on the keychain.
“While you work for me, you’ll drive a car from my fleet.”
I flip the keychain over and read Land Rover.
“It’s a black Discovery, and it’s parked in the underground garage in spot forty-seven. You can take the elevator down and it’s right there.”
“Dane…Master...” The rectangular fob is smooth and pristine cupped in the palm of my hand. “Thank you. This means more than you could possibly know.”
No more commuting with Cortland. That’s what this means.
“I have an offsite unscheduled visit at one of the wind turbine factories over in Greenwood,” he says, dipping his hands in his pockets. His gaze indicates he appreciates the fact that I’m still very much naked.
I tug his jacket off my shoulders and hand it back, taking my time dressing before him because he seems to enjoy the show.
“I won’t be back before the end of the day,” he says. “But feel free to take the afternoon if you’d like. We’ll train a bit more the next couple days, and then Saturday night will be our final compatibility test.”
Oh?
“It’s just as much for you as it is for me,” he says. “Though my ability to leave a woman satisfied has never been an issue in the past, and I don’t a
nticipate it being an issue for you either.”
So that’s what Saturday is. He’s going to screw me.
I’m going to lose my virginity…
In a mansion…
To the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on…
A tingling sensation fills my chest, working up to my neck and settling in the top of my head like bubbles. Nervous excitement expands every part of me, and there’s a hitch in my breath accented by a flush in my cheeks. I turn so he can’t see it. I’d hate for him to know I’m this excited.
Sneaking out with Cortland always gave me a rush, but this goes far beyond anything I’ve ever felt before.
I’ll have to sneak my dress and shoes into the house, which shouldn’t be a problem. I can shove them in the enormous Louis Vuitton weekender bag he got me, and now it’s making sense as to why he’d get me that bag.
He wants me to spend weekends with him.
That might be tricky.
“Could I come over later than nine?” I’m not sure if I can sneak out any earlier than ten. “Just to be safe. I’m not sure how long our company is staying.”
Dane’s eyes flick up before narrowing at me. “I suppose. But from here on, you’re to keep your weekend schedule completely open. You’ll find I’ll almost always need you on weekends.”
He checks his watch and glances out the window at the traffic.
“I’m going now.”
There’s no hug or kiss goodbye of course. There’s no prolonged fanfare or scene. He just leaves. I’d kill to know if he’s ever had a girlfriend or shown an ounce of warmth to anyone who wasn’t a line item on his yearly accounting audit.
It felt good to lie in his arms earlier, even if it only lasted a short while.
I roll the key fob in my hand and leave his office, pulling the double doors shut behind me. After shutting down my computer and locking my space, I take the elevator down to the parking garage and find the shiny black Land Rover parked in spot forty-seven.
It makes the most adorable beep when I unlock it. I inhale a lungful of the buttery leather and warm, new car scent. Only when I slide into the seat, do I realize this car fits me perfectly. Dane probably has every car imaginable in his fleet, and he chose the one that suited me the best.
For a man who hardly knows me, he truly does take care of my every need without me having to say a word. He wasn’t lying about that.
I press my foot into the brake and start the car, and thank goodness that’s the way my mom’s car starts or I’d have been sitting here for hours trying to figure it out. The car purrs, and I stick it in reverse before pulling out and following the green exit arrows to the street.
Daylight floods the car as soon as I merge into the street, and a little red box in the passenger seat catches my eye. When I get to the next stop light, I grab it and trace my fingers across the Cartier logo on the outside. A little white envelope not much bigger than my hand is taped to the bottom.
I open the card first.
Angel,
This necklace is a symbol. You are to wear an item of ownership at all times. Never fear, the items will be classy and tasteful, just like the submissive who wears them, and this necklace will be the first of many.
Seventy lashes if you’re not wearing this the next time I see you.
Master
The light turns green, but not before I drop the letter and crack the box open to see a gold necklace with a single, bezel-set diamond charm dangling from it. I’m not a jeweler but this looks to be, at minimum, one carat.
Any other girl would drool over the sheer beauty of this thing, but all I see is an animal collar.
I snap the box shut and toss it in the passenger seat.
FIFTEEN
DANE
I should’ve gone straight home after visiting Uncle Leo again, but here I am, back in the office. The sun has long gone down, and the drone of the cleaning crew vacuuming the hallway is the only other sound accompanying me tonight.
My emails are sorted, and I begin attending to the ones marked “high importance” that I’d purposefully neglected earlier in the week.
Just as I suspected, not one of them is that important.
Delete…
Delete…
File…
Delete…
Respond…
When my inbox is almost clear, I see an email from Laurie in HR from earlier in the afternoon.
Dane,
Background check came back clear.
Laurie
“Good,” I mutter before forwarding it on to my guy, the one who checks on things beyond credit history, criminal records, and identity confirmation.
I never used to run such extensive background checks until Jenessa. Now I won’t sleep with a woman until I know every goddamn thing there is to possibly know about her. Only I have to go about extracting that information in roundabout ways. Asking a woman these types of things doesn’t always guarantee the truth, and it also has a tendency of making them think you give two shits about getting to know them on a personal level. I’d prefer to avoid complications if at all possible.
Roger,
Full report on this one. Need ASAP.
Dane
I attach her signed consent form and hit send.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and my heart skips without permission when I wonder if it might be Bellamy, texting to thank me for the bezel-set diamond necklace.
Nope.
It’s Beck.
YOU EAT YET?
I type back, NOT HUNGRY.
ODESSA AND I WILL BE AT TAVERN PARK DRINKING BEER AND EATING PIZZA. JOIN US OR BE LAME.
My palate prefers a different kind of dinner tonight, one that lies between the curved thighs of my sub. I meant to reward her for the impeccable mouth-fucking earlier today, but I wasn’t quite in my right frame of mind, and when I saw that I’d fucked those cherry lips so hard she gagged, I had to bring us both down.
I’m not a man who ever prefers cuddling, but I’m not about to subject a novice to sub-drop. I’d never do that to Bellamy, so I held her in my arms, warmed her with my heat, and pretended not to enjoy it when she nuzzled her cheek up against my chest.
I reach for my phone again and pull up Bellamy, my thumbs hovering over her number. But the second I realize I’m halfway smiling, I throw my phone down like it’s carrying the bubonic plague.
Screw that.
I’ll see her when I see her.
In the morning.
On all fours.
Wearing the necklace that tells the world she’s taken in all senses of the word.
She’s lucky I didn’t get her an actual collar.
SIXTEEN
BELLAMY
I clasp the gold chain around my neck and flip the visor up before turning the engine off. It’s not tight by any means, but a constricted sensation creeps around me.
I’m not an animal.
And I fully understand that physically I belong to him. I know what I agreed to. But I didn’t know I’d have to wear something twenty-four seven to remind me.
It’s almost worse than Cortland proclaiming at Bible study last night that he’d spent the afternoon looking at promise rings for me. It took every ounce of strength in my body to give him my ring size with a smile on my face.
When I climb out of the Land Rover, I click the button twice just to hear the sonar beep an extra time then stand back and admire how sleek and sexy my new ride is. I worried about explaining this beautiful beast to my family, but my father took it exceptionally well. I think he was just relieved he wouldn’t have to buy me a new car. The Chrysler should be out of the shop next week, but I’m going to tell my father to sell it. By the time I’m done working for Dane in a few months, I’ll be able to afford something one-hundred-percent mine.
“Dane’s not in today,” Marlene says when I walk past her desk that morning.
I stop short, cocking my head. “Is everything okay?”
“Death in the fam
ily.” She presses her hand across her heart. “He might be in later today, but we’re not sure. He’s with Beckham right now. Private burial on Saturday. That’s all I know.”
My heart aches for the man with the ice-block heart who’s probably suffering in silence, not allowing anyone to comfort him. I wish he’d let me be with him. Granted, I’m not his girlfriend, but still. I could at least serve him by offering my support.
Then again, he made it clear earlier in the week that I’m not in his “inner circle.”
I slip the diamond necklace off when I get to my desk and place it in an organizer tray in my top drawer. If he’s not here, there’s no sense in me wearing this. Pulling out my phone, I send him a text.
SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS, DANE. I’M HERE IF YOU NEED ANYTHING.
Send.
He doesn’t respond, and like some spineless pushover, I can’t help wanting to do something more to please him. I yank the drawer out and fish around for the necklace, slipping it around my neck and taking a selfie. It’s just my décolletage, the photo centered on my necklace. I leave out my face and cleavage, as I’m not about to make his day of mourning about sex or teasing.
I examine the photo and send it to him without a caption before taking the necklace off once again and tucking my phone back in my purse. He can do with it what he wants, but I refuse to take it personally if he doesn’t respond. He’s busy, and I know family comes first.
My morning consists of playing solitaire and making too many trips to the break room for some Earl Grey tea from the Keurig machine. My afternoon consists of way too many bathroom trips thanks to said tea, and a little light Internet browsing. I’ve never actually shopped online, but I type in any store name I can think of and add a dot com to the end and squeal like a schoolgirl when the website pops up. I’m not sure why my father needed to block all these websites. It’s not like looking at shoes or bags would be some gateway to the darkest corners of the World Wide Web, but try telling him that.
When it’s time to go, I grab my necklace and then check the doorknob of Dane’s office, making sure he didn’t sneak in at some point in the day.
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