I huff a humorless laugh. “We took care of that problem, didn’t we?” With the photo and an agreement to several articles over the course of a month or so, the magazines are going for the hotter news and bigger paycheck.
I walk closer to the large window and look down at the tiny cars as they move slowly under me. Seemingly so slow. “She’s decided that she’s going to do a tell-all book now.”
I grit my teeth, hating that she just won’t let it go. What is it that she thinks is worth telling, exactly? A failed marriage because I worked too fucking much? I put a ring on the finger of a woman who was more interested in a paycheck than our relationship. I don’t know how I let her fool me.
And as far as my perversions that she’s willing to throw in my face, her tastes were far more extreme than my own. I take in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
“What exactly is in this book?” I dare to ask.
“Mr. Stone,” she says, then hesitates on the line. “According to the publisher who we’ve been in contact with,” she hesitates again for a moment, “the book will have pictures of the aftermath of your sexual encounters.”
My heart stills as she continues. Pictures? “There’s no way for her to be able to verify that they were taken at the time of your marriage and I’m sure your lawyer will be able to prevent their use, but if this were to be leaked it would certainly be detrimental to your image.”
“Pictures?”
“They make it appear as though there were bruises and several abrasions.” Her voice remains strong as she says, “The way it’s written leaves a lot of implications. The editor and publisher have been in contact because of potential lawsuits.”
Anger slowly rises in me as I close my eyes.
Never. I never leave marks, never leave cuts. Even when I picked up my first whip, I learned then the importance of only bringing the blood to the surface. Just enough force to redden the skin and create a wave of endorphins. I’ve never bruised anyone. Never. It’s simply not my kink. She wants to paint herself as a victim. Probably even more so, she wants to paint me as a villain.
Andrea speaks before I’m able to respond.
“I’m certain these pictures are fabricated, Mr. Stone. Especially considering the toxicity of your divorce.”
“You are correct,” I answer her in a tight voice.
“They would have come up before, had there been any truth at all to what she’s implying. The problem is that there’s no way for us to prove this. The best possible line of defense would be for you to continue this relationship with your...“ The rustling of paper in the background fills the silence.
“Dahlia.” I say her name as I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Yes, Miss Days.”
“Is she saying I beat her?” I have to ask. “She’s claiming abuse?” Even after everything we went through, I never thought she’d stoop so low. I loved her. I loved the woman I thought she was.
I’d never do anything to hurt her. Not like that. She loved the paddle, but it was only for play, only to intensify her pleasure. There was never a bruise on her body.
“She is.” The truth slams against my chest as I lean against the window, the cool glass on my palms. “The wording is ambiguous, so you’ll have to speak with Mr. Harris on that matter.” Her voice is soft and laced with sympathy.
I clear my throat and reply, “I understand. Thank you, Andrea.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stone.” The words hang stale in the air as I tell her goodbye and listen to the soft click on the other end.
I hold the phone in my hand, long after the line has gone dead. I can’t believe I was ever fooled by that woman. I loved her. I know I did, and I was so fucking wrong about her and everything.
I push away from the window at the sound of a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I call out, setting the phone back down where it belongs.
“Mr. Stone,” Linda enters with a mug of coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. She walks briskly to my desk, setting them each down before smoothing her skirt while looking up at me with a smile.
It instantly vanishes when she sees my expression. “Is everything alright?” she asks.
I give her a tight smile and ignore the concern in her voice.
“Fine.” I sift through the stack and recognize the contracts that are due today. “I’ll sign these after lunch.” It’s nothing that can’t wait.
Linda stands there for a moment and I can see she wants to pry, but she presses her lips into a thin line and nods her head. “You’ll let me know if you need anything?” she asks.
“Of course.” She leaves silently and the phone rings again. There are emails and meetings, contracts and press conferences. I don’t feel like doing any of them.
I know exactly what I do want though. I silence the phone and grab my cell phone from the desk.
Dahlia’s number is right there from when she called last night.
She didn’t stay over last night. I had a four a.m. meeting with a company in Singapore. But she called when she got back to her place. Just like I told her to.
She’s not perfect, but she’s the perfect Submissive for me. She gives it her best effort. The training is the best part, and of course I always give her what she needs after she’s thanked me for her punishment. I got very lucky with her.
I press send and listen to the phone ring… and ring.
She doesn’t have work or classes today. I almost brought her into the office, but decided against it so that I could focus. But I need her now.
Of course she’s not fucking answering the phone.
I call again rather than leaving a message, and again it goes to voicemail.
Today has been a very trying day and I don’t want to take it out on my sweet Submissive. I take in a deep breath, running my hands through my hair.
She’s just busy for the moment. My desk phone rings as I breathe out and I glare at it. Hating the constant reminder that I’m stuck here instead of being with her. I’m tense and on edge. Close to ripping this fucking office apart.
I could do what I’ve done for the past three years. I could go to my gym and take my aggression out there. But I want to fuck. I want the exertion. I need the release.
I want to unwind and get lost in the feel of her tempting body.
You need to answer when I call you.
I press send on the text and sit in my seat, ignoring yet another phone call. I have actual work to do and I pay my lawyer and the agency enough money to take care of these problems for me. I should just let it roll off my shoulders and get this contract completed, but now I’m fixated on my treasure.
I go through at least a dozen emails, all with only partial focus. I keep thinking about Dahlia. Wondering what she’s doing. I should know. I own her right now. My eyes dart from the screen to my phone.
Ten minutes later, and still nothing.
I expect you to be available for me at all times. I send the text, feeling the anger rise higher.
She knows this. Dahlia’s a smart woman. She’s intelligent and knows the rules of this relationship. She’s never been a Submissive, but she knows enough.
And I fucking paid for her. If I wanted I could have her at my feet right now, sucking me off. My dick instantly hardens with need at the thought. That’s exactly what should be happening right now.
I understand she’s busy, and that she wasn’t expecting me. I hold on to the last thought. I can be reasonable. My expectations weren’t made clear, and I assumed too much. She should know to wait for my call. But I haven't explicitly told her.
Anger simmers on the surface; I paid for her. Her time is mine, and I’ve been generous. Maybe too generous.
This is my fault, but when I get my hands on her, I’ll make sure this never happens again.
Chapter 18
Dahlia
You need to answer when I call you.
I pull at the hem of my blouse with worry as I sit in the back seat of Lucian’s
Rolls Royce, reading his last text to me. I’ve texted him back several times, but he hasn’t responded since he told me to wait for the car. I bite my lower lip, upset that I missed his calls and disappointed him. Worry stirs in the pit of my stomach as I meet Joseph’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
I was at the mall shopping when he sent the texts and calls, busying myself with a gift for him, and my phone was at the bottom of my purse. I simply didn’t hear it.
Everything is going to be okay, I tell myself, trying not to worry. Lucian will understand.
I glance down at the small bag at my side, my gift to Lucian. I got him a coffee mug from a gift shop. He drinks it non stop. It’s the first thing he gets in the morning. The words emblazoned on the side say, “Please, sir.” When I bought it, I thought it was funny. Now I think it’s stupid as hell. It’s been fifteen days but it feels like so much longer.
I just wanted to get him something to say thank you. Lucian has been positively spoiling me over the last two weeks, sending boxes and boxes of expensive clothes, high heels, designer purses and seductive fragrances to my apartment door.
I’m still in shock over how much he’s splurging on me, especially after buying my contract for so much. The cost of these gifts has to number in the thousands, and they're the nicest things anyone has ever bought me. It’s hard not to think that Lucian cares about me since he’s going to all this trouble. I just wanted to do something nice for him in return. I feel like there’s something between us. Or there was. Now I’m just filled with worry.
I could be fooling myself though. Lucian’s a billionaire. Money probably means nothing to him. A few thousand bucks to spend on his fuck toy that he’ll discard within a few days probably doesn’t make him bat a single eyelash.
My lips part into a soft sigh and my heart does a flip as I look out of the window and see Lucian. He looks hot as fuck, casually leaned back against the club’s back wall, wearing black silk slacks and a white shirt that’s unbuttoned at the collar, showcasing his tanned skin beneath, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He’s wearing the same black mask he had on when I first met him, his eyes gazing at me through it with that intensity that makes me shiver.
As the car comes to a stop, he pushes off the wall and opens the door before Joseph can get out. “You’ve kept me waiting.” There’s a slight edge in his voice that causes my skin to prickle.
I grip my gift bag, intent on offering it to Lucian as a peace offering, and begin to open my mouth to say sorry, when Lucian gestures sharply and says, “Leave it. You won’t be needing that.”
“But it’s a gift for you-” I begin to protest.
“Put it away,” Lucian growls dangerously, stepping away from the wall and moving toward me. “Let Joseph take it away with him. You can retrieve it later.”
I lower my head with shame at how close I’d come to arguing with my Dom. My heart beats faster, and anxiety swirls in my lower belly. Shit. “Yes, sir.” Joseph appears at my side to take the gift bag from me as I get out of the car and stand by Lucian. Shivering with apprehension, I watch as he starts the engine and rolls off, leaving us alone.
I turn when I hear a step at my side and I look up into Lucian’s mask, seeing only his piercing eyes. I let out a gasp and jump a little when he grabs me by the hips firmly, his touch sending sparks of electricity along my skin, pulling me into him. My breathing turns into soft pants as my core heats from being so close to his hard body. Below, I can feel his huge cock pressing against my stomach, pulsing with powerful need.
“I-I-I’m sorry,” I stutter, unable to think clearly under his penetrating gaze, “about not seeing your text. I was shopping and my phone was at the bottom of my bag on vibrate.” I cringe at how pathetic I sound, waiting for some type of punishment from Lucian, but he doesn’t say anything and the corner of his lips curl up into a hint of a smile.
“Come,” is all he says, pulling me along to a door in the private side entrance where two men in black suits and sunglasses stand guard. He makes a gesture at the two men, some sign that I can’t quite make out, and they nod and open the door for us.
I follow Lucian as he drags me inside to a dark hallway with dim lighting. The lighting is so low that I can’t really see, and I have to hold onto Lucian to make sure I don’t bump into anything. We round a corner and the low lighting changes to a dark red. I look around, trying to get my bearings, but all I see are multiple doors up and down the hall. I don’t know where Lucian’s taking me; I’ve never been in this part of the club before.
At the end of the hallway are two large double doors. Lucian stops us in front of them and quickly punches in a code on a metal box mounted on the side panel. I hear a clicking sound and the doors swing open. My breath catches in my throat as I step into a room awash with grey and white.
In the center of the room sits an elegant bed with a canopy, its lush comforter matching the colors of the room, and at the foot of the bed is a plush grey couch. The walls seem to be lined with a grey velvet fabric, and the curtains are a creamy white. Several elegant desks are placed on either side of the room and there is a large china cabinet filled with sexual toys and devices.
This must be one of the private rooms, I think to myself as I hear the doors slam shut behind me. Elegant and high class, but still equipped with the right stuff.
Before I can take in everything, I’m roughly jerked into Lucian’s arms from behind. I tremble against his hard body, my mind racing with anticipation of what’s to come, feeling his huge hard dick pressing up against my ass and his breath hot on my neck.
“Sorry isn’t good enough, treasure,” he growls in my ear, causing my pussy to clench with insatiable need.
“Sir,” I whimper softly not knowing what to say, aching to have his cock thrusting inside of my swollen pussy. I want him to punish me for my crime, ravaging my pussy with his big hard dick while spanking my ass like I’ve stolen something. God. I fucking crave it.
I cry out as he grips my blouse and lets out a bestial grunt, practically tearing it apart with his bare hands and then moving on to my bra, skirt and panties until I stand before him completely naked, trembling with need. My nipples pebble as the cool air hits them, and goosebumps rise on my flesh.
Without giving me time to react, Lucian drags me toward the bed and throws me on top of it. I land on the plush mattress with a bounce, my head slamming into the pillows. Before I can move, Lucian’s on top of me, turning me onto my stomach, his hard dick throbbing against my ass, tying my hands and feet with grey cloth that he’s pulled off the canopy. I tremble with my breath caught in my throat as he works, bucking slightly against him, but he’s too strong. When he’s done, I struggle against my binds, but they’re tied so tight. He has me securely locked down.
I lie there helplessly, my breathing coming in short pants and look to the side and see him grab a blindfold that’s sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. He stands over me with it, almost as if he's taunting me with what’s to come. I strain my neck to look up at him, and the only thing I can see are those beautiful eyes of his flashing with something dark, and I plead, ”Please, sir.”
Lucian responds by placing the blindfold over my eyes, eliminating my sight.
“I had to wait for you,” I hear him growl somewhere nearby, “now you will fucking wait for me.” I listen as I hear him walk away, his footsteps receding until all I hear is... silence.
I lie still for him for what feels like forever, and the only sound I hear is my own breathing. I accept my punishment. It’s not the first time he’s punished me. But this is different. This is more intense. I shiver repeatedly as a cool draft touches my skin, again and again, and I know my entire body is covered in goosebumps.
Thump! I jump at the sound of what sounded like a very deliberate footstep, my heart bucking in my throat, and then I hear another heavy footstep followed by another and another. My breathing quickens in relief and part anxiety. Lucian’s back.
I go completely still, knowing tha
t’s what he wants, knowing it’s the only thing that will get me what I so badly crave.
I nearly buck as I feel something hard graze my skin, leaving goosebumps down my thigh, before it’s pulled back. A soft moan escapes my lips as my core heats with desire. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. It’s what I fucking deserve.
“Not only have you kept me waiting, but you lied to me, treasure,” I hear Lucian say quietly from behind me. The quiet before the storm.
Smack!
I gasp with pain and pleasure, grabbing my binds to bear it, my pussy clenching violently around nothing. Immediately after, I feel Lucian kneading my ass, calming the pain pulsing through my ass cheeks.
“Tell me why you lied to me, treasure,” I hear him whisper near my ear, his breath hot on my neck.
Shock goes through me, mixed with desire. Lied? What did I lie about?
“I know you’ve been hiding something. And you need to tell me what it is.” Lucian’s voice is hard. “You should have already told me.”
Lucian knows? My heart races with anxiety. He knows what I’m hiding from him? I almost shake my head. That doesn’t make sense. He can’t know. I haven’t told him anything.
But that doesn’t mean he can’t guess, a voice inside my head says, he’s not stupid.
I part my lips to deny his words, and claim I don’t have any idea what he’s talking about, but guilt presses down upon my chest, keeping me from saying it. I don’t know why I keep fighting to hold my secret. I’m tired of holding it in. I should just let it out and let the chips fall where they may.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, a soft admission.
Smack!
My body jolts violently and a strangled cry rips from my lips, my pussy moist with arousal.
“That’s not what I asked for, treasure,” I hear Lucian say somewhere through my mire of pain. His voice sounds like he’s daring me to try to lie to him. And I wonder again why I’m fighting. It feels like he’s already won.
I writhe on the bed from the sting of the savage blow he dealt against my ass, my mind a mix of pain, pleasure and confusion. I wait for another blow, but it isn’t forthcoming. He’s allowing me a moment of recovery, a moment to reflect on his words.
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