Julia shook her head. “That’s not good enough for me. I want to meet her.”
“Never going to happen, Julia. Now are we done, or do I have to find a new assistant?”
She pressed her lips in a tight line and straightened. Without a word, she walked out of my office and slammed the door shut behind her. First Suzie. Now Julia. I was apparently pissing off all the women in my life.
Julia communicated only through emails and texts for the rest of the day. Normally, she accosted me before I left work so she could go over tomorrow's schedule, but the lights were out in her office when I took off for the night.
Obviously I'd really pissed her off. It soured my mood as my driver brought me home. The whole point of having Daisy was to not worry about this kind of crossover, but Julia just kept pushing. If only she knew what I really did in my personal life.
I was early getting home, and the scene that greeted me pissed me off even more. Daisy, dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a black blouse, sat on the counter and swung her legs while she talked to Suzie.
“What the hell is this?” I said with a growl. “Why isn't dinner ready, and why the fuck aren't you in the dress that I bought you?”
Daisy’s eyes widened in panic as she hopped down from the counter. I noticed that she was still favoring her foot as she kept her heel up. “I'm sorry. We weren't expecting you for another half an hour.”
“It takes you less than half an hour to get ready?” I taunted.
She looked at me with even more confusion. “It's just a dress. It takes a few seconds to slip on. I did try to walk around in the shoes a little bit though. I think that maybe I can wear them tonight.”
“Not with that cut,” Suzie interrupted. “You need to keep all of your foot flat on the ground.”
“Why are you here, woman?” I snapped. “You're supposed to deliver my meals this month.”
“Mr. Langston,” Daisy gasped.
“Don't get yourself all excited, darling,” Suzie said as she shot me a cold look. “He just gets this way when he's had a bad day at work. He sometimes has a hard time separating the two.”
“Leave. Now.”
Untying her apron, she let it fall to the floor. The anger in me burned even brighter when she gently squeezed Daisy's arm. I waited until the front door slam shut before I advanced on Daisy. “Day two, and you're already turning my staff against me.”
“We were only talking,” she said nervously as she pushed her back against the counter. “I finished everything on the list, Mr. Langston. I swear. We were just chatting while she finished up dinner. It wasn't going to be late.”
“Pick up that apron, and then get dressed,” I hissed. “And then get your ass back down here immediately. You have ten minutes, and I better like what I see.”
The fear in her eyes was all too real as she fled the kitchen. Stripping off my jacket, I dropped it on the chair. Suzie and I were going to have a long talk about her place in my household. The last thing that I wanted was for the staff to get chummy with Daisy. There was a reason that I wanted her isolated and let them have off for the month.
I wanted her to rely solely on me.
There was a chicken pasta dish in the pot on the stove. I had specifically asked for stuffed flounder tonight.
“I'm allergic to seafood,” Daisy said softly. “That's why she was here. When I told her, she insisted on making me something else. I told her that I was fine with a sandwich, but that just upset her.”
She apparently wasn't lying by how quickly she could get ready. Her make-up was still basic, but she didn't need much. The last thing that I wanted was to see her beauty smothered by powders. The black dress looked devastating on her. It was strapless and sheer in all the right places. The long slit gave me another peek at those beautiful thighs, and I could see hints of her abdomen and a daring amount of her breasts. The thin opaque strip covered only her nipples, and the design around her waist was meant to artfully hide her pussy.
That dress was made to drive men wild.
I ignored her apology. “Turn around. Slowly.”
While I was sure that she'd ready my instructions, I knew that she didn't get a good look at the dress before she put it on. The sheer fabric was meant to show just a hint of that perfect ass, but all I could see were the line of her panties. “Daisy,” I said in a cold voice. “Are you wearing underwear?”
As she faced me, I could see the embarrassment in her face. “I'm sorry.”
“Take them off. Now.” Pulling out a chair, I sat down and watched as she rushed to pull the offending garment off. “Kneel in front of me.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn't argue as she slowly walked towards me. Her heels clicked on the tile, and it pleased me enormously that she'd chosen to wear them and walk through the pain. Kneeling in front of me, she lowered her head. Reaching out, I brushed her hair over one shoulder so I could see the diamonds glittering from her collar.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“No,” she whispered, but she wrapped her arms around herself and didn't lift her head. I could see her shoulders shaking. “I tr….I trust you,” she stammered.
“Get up,” I directed. Slowly, she stood, but before she could walk away, I grabbed her hand and yanked her down. She stumbled, landing across my lap as I easily shifted her. Deftly, I pulled up her dress so that her ass cheeks were bare. “You disobeyed me, Daisy. You lied to me. It appears that you need to be reminded of your place.”
Her body wiggled across me making my cock hard. My hand shook as I raised it. “What are you going to do?” she whispered, and I brought my hand down. The satisfying sound was heaven to my ears.
Her body jerked, but she didn't cry out. “Daisy,” I asked softly as I watched her skin redden. “Did that hurt?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“But you didn't shout.”
“I was afraid to make it worse.”
Chuckling to myself, I slowly caressed her smooth skin. “The only thing that makes it worse is if hide yourself from me. When I pleasure you, I want to hear you pant and moan. When I punish you, I want to hear you cry out. I want to drink in every sound that you make. You're to be an open book for me at all times. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Immediately, I raised my hand again and smacked her quickly. Smack. Smack. Smack. She cried out each time. Resting my hand gently on her, I let my fingers wander just a little south. “What's this, Daisy?” I asked in a low voice. “Are you wet?”
When she didn't answer, I spanked her again. Three more, listening to her cries with each one. When she tried to wiggle off my lap, I anchored her to me. “Answer me when I ask you a question. Are you wet?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Good girl,” I murmured in her ear. “That's a very good girl. You may kneel again.”
I felt bereft as her weight slid off my lap. When she kneeled once again, I could see her breasts heaving with each breath. Smiling, I reached down, trailing my hand from her collar to her nipple and pinched it lightly. She immediately threw her head back in pleasure and arched into my touch.
“Go plate up our dinner,” I said softly. “I'm hungry, Daisy.”
“Yes, Mr. Langston.”
“Master,” I told her. “You can call me Master from now on.”
Daisy nodded like a good submissive and when she rose, I reached out and wrapped my hand around her thigh. As I slid my hand up to feel her wet heat, I smiled.
“First I'm going to eat dinner. And then I'm going to eat you.”
Chapter Eleven
Daisy
I knew that Mr. Langston was waiting for his dinner, but I needed a minute. My ass stung from the spanking, and I was embarrassed. What kind of woman got off on that kind of pain? All this time, I thought that sex was nothing more than pain and abuse, but I was more than wrong. I was turning into this wanton slut who eagerly took whatever her lover gave her. Or, her master, whatever Mr. Langston meant by that. Did he
keep telling me to call him that since he paid—and technically owned—me for the month? I was his sex slave, after all.
Gripping the counter, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. So many things still confused me and there was so much I still didn’t know about, but I couldn’t deny the way my body had reacted to his spanking. How would it respond when he tied me down? When he loomed over me and called me a slut and a whore? Would I still feel fear, or would I welcome it?
What was happening to me?
My hand trailed up to the diamond collar, and I was surprised to find that the weight—the feel—of it wasn’t so foreign anymore, but almost comforting even.
Slowly straightening, I plated up our food and brought it out. He'd moved his chair back up to the table, but it didn't make a difference. My gaze still drifted to his lap. I'd spent most of the day ignoring the kitchen table because whenever I saw it, I imagined myself splayed out with Mr. Langston’s fingers stroking me to ecstasy.
I'd been wet all day, but now my pussy was drenched. It was the real reason that I wanted to wear the panties. I felt so exposed without them. His eyes followed me with every step that I took. My movements were awkward with the heels, and the plate in my hands teetered dangerously. Maybe if my foot didn’t still hurt, I’d be able to figure these heels out. I kept my head held high anyway, barely keeping from spilling Mr. Langston’s food.
“Your foot hurts,” Mr. Langston noted mildly when I’d returned with my own plate as well. “Take the shoes off.”
Confused, I stared at him. “I thought pain was part of the package.”
“When it’s coming from me, yes. It's done to heighten sexual pleasure. As much as I love your long legs in those shoes, I don't like to know that they're hurting you. Take the shoes off. I won't tell you again.”
“You are so confusing,” I muttered under my breath and leaned down to unbuckle the black shoes.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, kicking off the shoes. “Just relieved.”
“Do we need to rehash what happens when you lie to me?”
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and I shook my head, desperate to change the subject. “What upset you at work?”
“Don't ask me about work. Ever,” he said shortly. “We both know that you're not interested. Let's talk instead about what you did last night. Did you touch yourself after I left you? Did you try to break into that closet and see all the delightful things that I have in store for you?”
I knew what he wanted me to say. Knew what he wanted from me, but I was still sorting through everything, and wasn't ready to talk about it—certainly wasn't ready to talk about any of this with him.
Maybe Suzie might’ve been someone to talk to, except the first thing that she said to me when she walked in today was that she didn't want to hear any of the details. She just wanted to know if I was okay.
I had no other friends, and definitely couldn't call up Ralph and discuss it with him. So, for now, I had to sort through things on my own, and that was going to take time.
“I realize that you enjoy putting me in situations that make me uncomfortable, and I do want to please you, but I'm not ready to talk about yesterday. If you don't want to talk about work, then maybe we could find some sort of common ground. Something between work and…um…sex.”
“Fucking,” he said harshly. “Said it, Daisy.”
Nervously, I tucked my hair behind my ear. “What do you do when you're not at work?”
“Fucking.”
Frustrated, I reached for my water glass. “What do you do when you're not at work or with a woman? Do you have a sport that you like or a hobby? Maybe a television show, although I haven't watched TV in a long time.”
“Really?” He cocked his head and continued to eat. “You don't like television?”
“There was only one in the apartment, and my father was on it all the time. I watched a little when at Ralph’s, but he was on the television all the time too.”
“I don't want you say his name in my presence,” Mr. Langston said coldly. “Ever.”
Closing my eyes briefly, I took a deep breath. Everything I did tonight upset him. “What about business? I saw the merger between Jones Investments and Sealand Accounting. That takes two medium businesses and turns them into a giant. They're the biggest rival now for Berringer. Stocks are going up. Clients are raving about the perks, and their new customer sign-on bonus is hard to beat.”
“You follow business news?” he murmured. “Why?”
“I don't really follow it, but it was headline news for weeks. Hard to miss. I actually applied to the Berringer internship program when I graduated high-school,” I said before taking a bit of my food.
The creamy pasta was delicious, but I was far too nervous to really enjoy it. Instead, I just shoveled it in automatically while talking. I'm sure it was a beautiful sight.
“You didn't get it?”
“Oh, no. I did.” I wiped my mouth. “But to keep the internship, I had to go to college, and that just wasn't in the cards.”
“But you applied anyways?” he stared at me over his glass of wine. “Why?”
“I applied for student loans. I got into NYU, but when my father found out, he forbade me to go.” I cringed at the memory. “Couldn’t continue to work full-time if I was in college, and he wasn't working at the time. We had to pay the rent somehow.”
“So your father made you give up a bright future where you could have pulled in way more money than you make working at the Weiner Hut—”
“Grill,” I interrupted him.
“—all because he was too lazy to get a job. And you let him do that to you?”
I didn't tell Mr. Langston about my college and intern opportunity so that he could judge me. I just wanted to have a conversation. “My father is my family. He was devastated when my mother died.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“And I was living there. I needed to pull my weight.” I gripped my fork tightly. “Anyway, back to Berringer.”
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “Berringer has been King in this city for decades, but they could stand to be shaken up a little. This new merger is going to do just that, but they're a long way from taking the crown. People will talk about it for a while, but Jones and Sealand will get greedy. They'll make a few mistakes, and Berringer will be back on top again. It's not the first time that another investment company has risen up to try to take their place.”
“You know the market well. I guess that you should. Your company would be indirectly affected, right?”
Mr. Langston shrugged. “We have our own internal team that handles the kind of cash that Berringer might take on, but they're capable of handling more, and we have a few clients that we sometimes nudge in that direction. That sort of back-scratching works both ways, but it's not a big enough issue that would make or break me.”
The conversation lulled. I had nothing else to say and focused instead on my dinner.
“You're still young. It's not too late for you to go to college. That ten grand that Ralph is going to give you could pay for a semester,” Mr. Langston said.
“I thought about that,” I admitted, scraping my fork against the plate. “But I don't think that R…that he wants me to go to college. He's got a brighter future than me, and I would be better suited in supporting him.”
“You don't have to support anyone, Daisy. You're eighteen. You just have to focus on yourself. You've only been dating him for a little while. Why are you letting him run your life?”
I popped my head up and nearly snorted. That was rich coming from the man who bought me and left me a letter of instructions every morning. For the next month, he owned me, and he was going to lecture me on letting a man run my life?
There was a glimmer of regret in his eyes. Almost like he realized how ironic his lecture was, but he didn't apologize. Instead, he quietly finished his dinner and pushed his plate away. Slowly, I rose to clea
r the table.
“Put them in the dishwasher this time,” he ordered in a low voice. “Then go to your room. Strip and wait for me on the bed. I'll be there shortly.”
“I…”
“Now, Daisy.” His voice left no room for argument. I ducked my head and collected the dirty plates. Rinsing them in the sink, I loaded the dishwasher and fled to my room.
Closing the door, I leaned against it and let my eyes shut. I was still wet and pulsing from our last encounter, but part of me was hoping that he wouldn't touch me again until tomorrow. That he'd give me some time to process everything that was happening to me.
I trembled and stepped away from the door, reaching for the side-zipper on my dress and letting the sheer fabric fall to the ground. In an act of defiance, I left the dress on the floor and climbed into the bed.
And under all four layers of bedding.
My heart thudded against my chest as I watched the door and waited. Every single sound made me jump. I had no idea how long me made me wait. A few minutes. An hour. The air grew thick with tension with each passing minute.
My thighs were sticky as the ache inside me grew stronger. By the time he finally opened the door, I was close to begging for him.
Slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt. “I want to see your body, Daisy. Come out from hiding.”
Swallowing hard, I slowly pushed the sheets back and climbed on top of them. “Yes,” he murmured. “I love see you on all fours.”
Immediately, I froze, and he chuckled. “It's okay. I'm not taking you tonight, Daisy. We're just going to play a little. Lie on your back, spread your legs, and raise you knees.”
So specific. So clinical. He almost sounded like a doctor. It comforted me that he was so precise. I needed those instructions. Needed to pretend that this desire inside me wasn't for him.
I wanted passion, but this wasn’t the passion of a relationship with someone that cared for me. This was one-sided, and I couldn't fall for that. My life—my heart—didn't have that kind of luxury.
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