Prologue: Aria
I test my restraints impatiently then lie back on the bed with a sigh.
It’s been almost a week since he bought me. One week ago, I thought my life was about to change.
And it has. It changed more than I could possibly imagine, but not in the ways I expected.
He’s mysterious, tall, handsome, dark, and more dominating than I ever could have guessed. He makes me beg and beg for more but never gives me what I want.
He makes it feel good in other ways.
The bed is enormous with a high, ornate canopy. The soft white silky fabric that hangs down on all sides mutes the light and makes it hard to see the rest of the beautiful room.
My room. He gave me my very own room complete with a bathroom, tiny little sitting area, small kitchen, and twenty-four-hour room service. It’s like living in my own little paradise.
Except paradise should give me what I want, which he refuses to. He keeps whispering in my ear, soon, soon, just beg a little longer, but each night he leaves me quivering with desire. I don’t know what to do. I never thought I’d actually want this more than anything, but now that I do, he just won’t budge.
I want him. I want his touch. I bite my lip as I realize how dripping wet I am.
I wish I could reach down and touch myself. These last few nights, that’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane. But I can’t move since my wrists are tied to the headboard with soft black silk.
My heart is hammering in my chest. I want him, but I don’t know when he’ll come. He tied me up, kissed me softly on the lips and then told me to be patient. That was almost a half hour ago. I’m trying to be patient, just like he told me to be, but it’s hard.
Actually, it’s impossible. I want him to push apart the canopy and crawl on top of me. I want him to crush me with his muscular body, pin me down to the bed, have his way with me. I want him to ravish me.
After all, that’s why he bought me. I’m supposed to give into his every desire, to pleasure him. Instead, he’s spent this last week teasing me, getting to know me, giving me everything I want. I’m pampered but I’m so frustrated.
I perk up suddenly when I hear the door open and close. I hear his footsteps move across the floor, but I don’t say a word.
That’s part of the game. I’m supposed to be silent and demure. I’m supposed to do exactly what he says, and if he goes too far, there’s a certain word I can use. It’s our safe word. If I say it, the game stops instantly. But I can’t imagine using it.
I want the games. They keep me going.
I’m his for a month. He owns me and at first, I hated it. I never wanted to be in this position, but here I am.
Now though, I’m not so sure. I’m not positive that I hate this. I don’t hate him, that I’m sure of. Part of me doesn’t like being bought and sold, but part of me finds it so exciting that he owns me completely, at least for a month.
I can sense him standing next to the bed. My heart hammers in my chest. I don’t know what he’s going to do to me this time, but I can’t wait to find out.
The fabric parts and I stare up into his piercing green eyes, a slight smile on his lips. He leans over of me, sitting on the bed, half in and half out of the canopy. He’s wearing a clean white shirt unbuttoned halfway down that’s tucked into a beautiful pair of tailored suit pants.
His smile is so delicious. I stare into his eyes, waiting, begging, needing.
“You’ve been good,” he says, barely a whisper. He moves closer to me. “Do you know what good girls get?”
I shake my head slightly, eyes wide, heart hammering.
“They get whatever they want,” he says, still smiling. “What do you want, my little toy?” He pauses and his smile gets bigger. “You may speak.”
“You,” I say, not breaking eye contact. “I want you.”
“Good.” His thumb moves down my lips. I part my mouth and take his thumb between my teeth. I can feel my pulse between my legs as his other hand moves slowly down my chest, pausing over my breasts, moving down toward my pussy.
“You’ve been so good, little toy, so good,” he says, mouth close to my ear. His hand pauses just above my pussy. I’m completely naked and dripping wet, as vulnerable as I possibly can be, and yet it only makes me that much more aroused.
“Do you think you deserve it?” he asks. “Tell me if you do.”
“I deserve it,” I say. “I’ve been so patient.”
“Yes, you have.” He kisses my ear, nibbles it softly, then kisses my neck. “So patient. So good. I’ve spoiled you enough, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” I moan. “I’m spoiled.”
He pulls back, a wicked smile on his lips. “I didn’t say you could respond.”
I stare, eyes wide, realizing my mistake. He pulls his thumb from between my legs and moves up onto the bed.
“Now you’ll need to be punished.”
He moves down between my legs, spreading them wide. I practically moan as he looks at my dripping wet pussy, bare and clean for him.
I’m dripping. I’m aching. “Please,” I whisper. “Punish me.”
He grins and when he touches my body, my entire world shrinks down to the pressure of his fingers against my skin, and everything goes light.
1
Ethan
One Week Earlier
I lean back in my large black leather chair and look out the wall-sized window, staring out across the city.
It’s the middle of the day and already I’m exhausted. I’ve barely slept over the last month as my company, World Line Inc., has gone through some enormous structural changes. We acquired one of our smaller competitors, and in the process we’ve had to change things up to fit their new employees and manufacturing.
It’s been exhausting, but the end is almost near. And when we’re finished, World Line will be one of the largest manufacturing tech companies in the world.
I sigh, stretching. I crack my neck and lean back, groaning. I feel like a man twice my age, although I’m only thirty-two. I’ve spent the majority of my life so far, from when I was just a college dropout at the age of twenty to now, building this company and growing it aggressively. I started out with a simple idea, a tweak to the manufacturing process, and grew it into a world-wide conglomerate.
I sacrificed a lot to get where I am. The magazines all like to call me the most eligible bachelor under forty, but I rarely ever feel that way. I fucked my way through the socialite scene, because I don’t have time to spend on getting close to women.
But where has that left me? I can’t help but wonder sometimes if things would be better if I gave a woman more than just one night. Maybe not a relationship, because I’m not interested in getting fucking tied down, but something. I don’t know what. A friendship, a fuck buddy. Hell, I barely have time for anything outside of the business these days.
I lean back and put my hands on the back of my head, sighing. It probably doesn’t matter, anyway. I have enough money to retire and live a rich life at this point, but I know I’m never going to. That’s not the type of man that I am.
Settling down isn’t something I want. I work hard and I play hard when I get the time. I live to win and to dominate everything around me, that’s how I’ve gotten to where I am. Thinking too hard about my life won’t do any good, not at this point.