She bites her lip but obeys.
“Good girl.” She drapes her leg over mine, and my cock tightens against my zipper. Her nearness, her scent, and her utter trust is intoxicating. She trusts me.
She shouldn’t.
I frown at the little bruise and dab the lotion on. When my fingers touch her skin, she gasps. I freeze.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, sir,” she whispers.
I will.
“What is that you’re… putting on me?”
“It’s arnica. Will help prevent bruising.”
On your ass, on your thighs… I don’t have this here for typical first aid. I haven’t even seen her skin yet but can already imagine what it looks like striped red.
“How clever. I never heard of it.”
A kink virgin, then?
Is anything else about her virginal?
Jesus.
When she’s doctored up, I lean back and observe her.
“How long have you worked with… the escort company?”
If I call it by name, I’ll lose the little self-control I still have.
Her eyes flit left as she looks away. “Oh, I’m a new… hire.”
Of course she is. There’s no way a woman like her would’ve passed my attention. But I don’t like her looking away from me. I reach for her chin and place it between my thumb and forefinger, dragging her gaze to mine.
It’s time we set the ground rules.
“Eyes on me when we’re speaking.” Time for her first test. “I didn’t give you permission to look away.”
Her eyes grow even wider, but she nods and holds my gaze.
“Now answer the question. How long?”
“Today’s my first day,” she whispers, eyes still on me. “And what do you mean by permission?”
“You’ll see soon enough. First day? So you’ve never had another client?”
“Absolutely not.”
Jealous possession flares through me. I move my hand so I’m cupping the back of her head, my fingers lacing through the silky soft curls.
“I like that answer,” I tell her truthfully. I could teach her.
Hell yes.
She needs to relax. “Would you like a drink?”
She nods, her soft curls bouncing. “Yes, please.”
“Your name?”
She swallows hard. “Katie.”
I release her reluctantly and get to my feet. “What’s your drink?”
“Um… do you have wine?”
“Of course. What kind?”
“White?”
“No preference?”
“Not too dry?”
Adorable.
I pour her a generous glass of white Zinfandel and rejoin her. I want to test her, to really see if she has what I’m looking for.
I hold the glass just out of her reach.
“Um. Thank you?” she says tentatively.
“Say ‘please, sir.’”
I watch her response. She shifts on the couch, her pupils dilate, and she wipes her palms on her dress. Her eyes widen even further, and her lips part.
“Please, sir?” she asks.
I nod and give her the wine. “Good girl.” I sit back down beside her. “Let’s talk about the rules here.”
“Rules?”
“Yes, Katie. Rules.” And consequences. “Our contract will begin this evening and end in the morning. While under my roof, you’ll obey what I tell you and do what I ask. I have certain… tastes. But I’ll pay you well.”
I’ll make her come until she’s hoarse, until she forgets to breathe, until my touch is branded on her skin.
She nods. “Well,” she says, as if to herself. “I’m here for a reason, and I—” She looks back to me. “Yes, sir.”
What is her reason?
She shouldn’t cave so easily. She should at least have doubts, but it doesn’t seem that she does.
I place my hand deliberately on her thigh, where the dress rides up and bares her skin. She shivers under my touch and takes a long drink from her wine glass. I squeeze her thigh, a gentle pressure to show I’m in control of this.
“And then in the morning, after your contract is complete, I’ll pay you the flat rate of ten thousand dollars.”
She sputters the wine and nearly chokes. “For one night?”
It’s more than twice what a typical escort gets paid, but something tells me she’s worth it.
“Yes, at the hourly rate of one thousand dollars per hour.”
“Oh my God,” she says, not even bothering to hide her shock. She downs the rest of her wine glass in one fell swoop. “When do we start?”
Good. Good girl.
“From the moment I first touched you,” I say, “by contract, which I’ll arrange shortly.” I glance at my watch. “So by my estimation, fifteen minutes ago.”
I check my email on my phone. The contract’s sitting right there, ready for our signatures.
“Read it.” I hold my phone to her. She squints, scrolls, then nods.
“Done and done,” she says.
I should be happy. I’m not. She could hurt herself being so reckless.
“You shouldn’t agree so readily,” I warn her. “What if I were a serial killer?”
I got what I wanted, so why the fuck am I arguing with her?
She blinks, and her cheeks flush pink. “Well I… the agency vets their clients, sir. Right?”
I grunt, scroll through the contract myself, and tap the signature line. It pops up for me to sign, which I do. The contract automatically gets sent to the agency. I shut off my phone.
“Don’t they?” she asks.
“Of course they do.” But what she doesn’t know is I’m rich enough to bypass any screening they have for me. Whatever they’d charge would be a rounding error.
I place my phone on the table and look her over. “More wine?”
She nods. “Please.” She giggles. A lightweight? I’ll take care to not let her drink too much.
I refill her glass and bring it back to her, but I slide it on the table in front of her. She reaches for it, but I cluck my tongue.
“Ah ah, little girl. You ask for permission.”
She bites her lip, and my need grows stronger. “Please, sir? May I?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
Her lower lip juts out, but I shake my head. “No pouting. Pouting is for naughty girls, and naughty girls get a spanking.”
Right over daddy’s lap.
Her nostrils flare and her eyes widen, but she steels herself with a deep breath. “That’s what you meant by permission.”
There’s nothing about her that’s pretense, nothing but honest responses. She doesn’t know it, but it’s so damn gratifying I’d give her anything she asked for right now.
“It is.”
Among other things.
I wait another moment before I give my next instruction.
“You may have your wine, but remember, Katie. You’re on my time now.”
She nods. “Tell me what to do, sir. I’m eager to please you.”
I want to reach for her, drag her onto my lap and kiss her lips until she melts into me, then lay her out and make her come until she arches her back and screams.