ELEANOR POV
RULES FOR SUB
-𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 (𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦, 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥).
What...! I close the folder and flip it over, look around me.. I'm in the car with Banks. I look at him. He's still driving.
I'm really doing this? Me?
I thought subs are slim? Maybe a tiny bit thick.
Not someone that just reduced to ninety four from one hundred and one kg!
Pressure builds from center of my chest, to lower abdomen to the hole between my legs, back up to my nipples... I'm in heat!
With deep intake of breath, I open it back to read.
RULES FOR SUB
1- 𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 (𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦, 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥)
2 - 𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳
3 - 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺. (𝘕𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘢, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨) 𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯
4 - 𝘔𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 (𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨).
𝘖𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦.
4- 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘥.
5- 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘭, 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦.
5- Tears are permitted. Begging is heard. Silence, however, will be punished.
6- 𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨
7- 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵.
8- 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘚𝘪𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.
9- 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘐 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰. 𝘐 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦
10- 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘐 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴
11- 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘹, 𝘣𝘰𝘴𝘴, 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘔𝘦.
12- 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨
13- 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵
14- 𝘕𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘺, 𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳. 𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵
15- 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮
16- 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩, 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬, 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦.
16𝘣- 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴- 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘎𝘠𝘕𝘈𝘌𝘊𝘖𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘐𝘚𝘛, 𝘋𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘵 /𝘌𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯, 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘵.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘺𝘮, 𝘳𝘶𝘯, 𝘗𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦.
17- 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵.
18- 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘷𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭
19- 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦
20- 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.. 𝘛𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘕𝘰 𝘷𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥.
Few minutes later, I'm done, hot, scared and intrigued. My pussy clenches around nothing.
I close the folder, flip it over like it burned me... Considering how hot my throat feels, it did.
I stare out the window at the passing street lights, then look at Banks, he's parked in front of his building, staring at me.
"Come in"
With cold and heavy feet, I follow him into his home
"You can go through the full documents" Banks say and walk into a room. Possibly kitchen.
I settle into the sofa and pick up the document to count.
Fourteen pages.
SUBMISSIVE and DOMINANT. I inhale.
This is me. Eleanor Ashworth. A twenty-nine years old perfume fat girl who is now caught in the attention of a well- known billionaire mogul.
I'm sitting at his dining table with a glass of water I haven't touched and an energy that makes me look like I read fourteen-page legal documents regularly.
I do not.
Especially not one that says I'm selling out my body and time for two million dollars monthly.
But I'm here anyways.
Reading a BDSM CONTRACT because he considers me his next meal.
SUBMISSIVE and DOMINANT. The words settle into my brain. I read romance novels, Reddit threads, perfume constituents and the back of skincare packaging to deal with my dark spot.
Fourteen pages of legal language with sub-clauses is a different ecosystem entirely.
And I'm wondering if this is normal. I'm sure he's busy enough to not stress himself with a legal binding document just to fuck me... Or any girl.
"Ewww" I swallow the bile that strides in.
Without further delay, I pick up the document and start from the beginning anyway.
THIS AGREEMENT is entered into between
Banks O. Wellington
(hereinafter "the Dominant Party") and
Eleanor A. Ashworth
(hereinafter "the Submissive Party")
The Dominant Party.
I look at the ceiling briefly to collect myself and continue.
The financial terms follows our names.
Two million dollars monthly, transferred on the first of each calendar month, with a signing bonus I was not told about that makes me put the document down and pick it up again to confirm the number is real.
Thirty thousand dollars to be paid within the hour I sign this.
"Fuck!" I grunt. It's real
I put it down again and pick it back up.
"Is my pussy made of gold? Why on earth is he paying this much just to fuck it?" I mutter within me. Looking at the door he left through.
Okay and ass... But still. I'm sure with the right manipulation, another guy could've convinced me to do it for free.
My chest heat up and I feel myself sweat.
"Okay Eleanor. Focus."
Page three.
THE EXCLUSIVITY clause follows. Which is what I expected- HIS ALONE.
THE AVAILABILITY terms Follows on page four
Reasonable notice will be given when the Dominant needs the Submissive body or attention.
THE SUBMISSIVE must always be responsive to her Dominant's call and request except in cases of:
1- Life threatening emergency
2- Urgent personal requirement.
From both parties.
THE HEALTH clauses are thorough through pages five to eight: Gynecologist appointments, testing schedule, documentation requirements. All covered, all paid, all assigned to specific people I haven't met yet.
There's a therapy provision on page seven that I read twice because I wasn't expecting it.
Optional but available. Covered.
"Tryna put me through hell?" I think to myself. Because that's the only explanation why you think a sane person will need therapy after fucking you.
"God help me" I muse with loud exhale. He's still not back.
I get to page nine
THE SUBMISSIVE Must dress in a way fitting for the occasion stated by the Dominant.
Beauty, looks, outfits, hair, and every other accessories will be provided for, as deemed by the Dominant and his available team.
The submissive is allowed to choose her preferred style but must look fitting for the event.
I look down at my body. My stomach folds. I'm sure those events involve models, slim girls...
I close my eyes
"Rule number 9 Eleanor" He chose you because I belong.
"Damn it" I exhale and read on
Page 10
THE SUBMISSIVE PARTY retains the right to terminate this Agreement at any time, for any reason, with immediate effect and without financial penalty.
Upon termination, all properties provided under this Agreement remain the property of the Submissive Party under the clause of...
I stop reading
REMAIN THE PROPERTY OF THE SUBMISSIVE?!
The apartment. The cars I can't drive. The wardrobe
Mine? If I leave. If he ends it, under any circumstance.
I put the document on the table and stand up.
My chest racing like it ran a marathon.
Considering I'm about to inherit a fortune, I'm sure it feels the same.
I pick the water I've abandoned on the table, open it and I gulp the whole content. The bottle making a creaking sound that I ignore.
Banks walks back in at that moment and I become self aware. I turn to the side and drop the plastic. Just little water remaining in it.
He holds two coffees and the unhurried energy of a man who has done this before, which he has.
I know, that's why I'm considering this.
There are track record of people who have been involved with him and still sane. Seen. Not dead or mad.
I exhale when his heat touch me.
I'll be fine.
He sits across from me, with a coffee within reach. Then looks at the document and then at my face, an eyebrow quirked up. Ignoring my not so lady like used plastic bottle.
I feel so hot and my heart won't stop racing.
"Sit Eleanor" As if on control, I oblige and take the coffee. The hot, fresh scent grounding me. I place it back down.
Banks is leaning against his sofa- Relaxed and expecting.
I should sign but all I can think of is WHAT LED US HERE? WHY ME? WHAT BROUGHT US TOGETHER?
WHAT WENT WRONG... Or is it what went right?
BANKS POV
The moment I step inside this perfume store, a sweet voice wrapped in fury greets me. She is facing off against a typical, entitled customer.
"Customers are always right!" the man, maybe fifty years old and puffing with self-importance, barks.
"That's your getaway mantra as a retard with no one at home to respect you. So you find your way to retail stores to bugger innocent, tired staff," she lashes out without stopping. Her voice vibrating with a beautiful, raw heat, while the man stands there, paralyzed by the sheer audacity of her.
"If you try that rubbish again, I'll have you arrested," she adds, jerking a bottle of perfume out of his hand. I stand by the door, watching the scene unfold. Both people oblivious to me.
"Is this how you tal.." The man puffs his chest, trying to tower over her. She doesn't flinch.
"Talk to rude customers? Yes!" Again, she cuts him off. Moving closer boldly. She looks around five-foot-five, with hands on her hips that strain against the fabric of her gown. Her chin tilted up and her shoulders arched, pushing her chest: pair of full breasts, that moves with every jagged breath she takes. She is pressed dangerously close to his space and my teeth clench. I want to be that man. I want that rage directed at me, just so I can be the one to break it.
"I'll repo..."
"Report me to my manager?"
"Go ahead. I dare you" She rants on. Bold, full, and fierce. The type I never knew I wanted, but now my beast is hungry for it. For her.
"Because I'll not only report you to the officers... I'll take the security clips of your misbehavior, hunt you down, and play them for your boss. Then I'll send them to your kids' school and your neighbors."The man moves back, finally intimidated, and it makes me smile.
Few are the people that can handle heat like hers... I am pleased to consider myself one of them. No. I will become the only one that welcomes, takes, and controls her heat.
"Every day you come here and stress the joy out of me. Out of everyone." The man finally breaks.
"You'll regret this" He warns weakly and throws a shopping bag at her, and storms out, stopping right in front of me. I tilt my head at him, then back at my firecracker who is picking up the bag.
"Mr. B... Siiir," he stutters and I take her in. Hidden beneath the folds of the dress, are luscious curves that beg to be grabbed, whipped, and squeezed until she forgets every word in her vocabulary except Master.
"Go," I dismiss him, and he exhales with a dash outside.
"How dare..." She starts to race after him, but stops dead when she notices me by the door, perfume bottle raised up in her hand. Our eyes meet, she steps back and blinks twice, trying to regain her composure.
"I'm very sorry you witnessed that, sir," she says, straightening her dress to give me a quick, ninety-degree bow. Her first words to me. I don't care what happened with that man. He earned that rage. Or she's just as rude as she looks. First impressions and all that.
"Our service is usually top notch."
"Take off your mask," I request. A single order has always been my way of life. It is redundant to repeat yourself. It is also my test. Apart from the bedroom, submission isn't my forte. But obedience without questioning is important to me.
"What?" she questions, a dark eyebrow arching. I take a step closer to her. She blinks, her heart rate quickening through the fabric of her clothes that clings to her body like it is meant for a man of status. A man like me.
"Sir?" Hands in pockets, I keep my gaze on her. Finally, with a defiant roll of her eyes, she pulls it down. Time seems to slow, stretching each second into a minute and my heart stops. Her lips parting slightly like it's waiting for my fingers or cock.
"What do you want, sir?" She repeats. I move closer to her, inhaling her intoxicating scent, feeling the heat of her skin and craving to touch every inch of flesh that graced her body.
"You" I reply and she stumbles back with a loud, difficult gulp. I want her. That need was primal the moment I heard her.
"I... Excuse me?..." She stutters, steps faltering and I wrap my hand around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the richness of every bit of her body before she could fall. She wiggles, which only presses her body closer against me.
"I want to buy every minute of your time until you forget how to say anything but my name" Her eyes fly up to me, same time red covers her cheeks and neck.
"You.... How could..." I close my eyes and breath in. Was it her scent? rage? The way she stood? Curves ? A dozen details stun me at once.
And now, in my arms, with the mask gone, I'm face-to-face with round, puffed cheeks on an oval face. Her lips are full and glossy, and a nose ring glints in the light.
"You're pretty," I observe and her eyes widen further.
"Why were you wearing a mask?" Every woman around me flaunts her beauty.
"I don't like the shop's air freshener, but my supervisor insists on it," she replies, her voice regaining softness. I nod, taking my hand off her waist against my desire, and step away from the door.
Her head stops just below my shoulder as she scurries past me toward the counter.
"I need a perfume," I say and she comes back out with a tight-lipped, professional smile.
"That's great, sir." She leads me toward the expensive section. I don't mind. I'm used to being steered toward the top shelf; I have the money, and they need the commission. Besides, price usually dictates quality.
"Who is it for?" she questions, standing directly in front of me. My body nudging me to hold her waist again. Is it this hard to resist touching someone?
"A male friend. It's his birthday." She turns her back to me, reaching for a bottle of Clive Christian. Her movements bring her dangerously close to me. As she stretches up, her short dress rides up, revealing a glimpse of her ass cheeks hidden beneath her hosiery. Images of them on my face glimpse through my mind, raw and unbidden.
"I'll get it" I press closer, not quite touching. My arm raises alongside hers to help her reach the bottle and the proximity becomes a problem immediately. Her scent wraps around me, and heat moves through me from jaw to groin. What the hell. My hand finds the bottle yet I don't move back.
"Thank yo..." She turns to face me, but the movement is too fast. Her mouth connects squarely with my chest and I grab her waist, finally, again; to steady her. My body responds instantly: Throat thicken, pulse race and my stomach is being throttled.
"I... OMG!" She recoils, looking up at me in horror. Then she looks down at the pink lipstick stain she's left on my grey polo.
"I'm so sorry, sir!" She plead, wiping the stain with the heel of her palm, her chest brushing against my arms while her hand graze my nipple through the fabric. Well, fuck.
"Please come off..."Her soft groan plea and I'm already imagining her saying please in a very different context. I grab her wrist, stopping the frantic rubbing as my length begin to thicken.
"Stop" Our eyes locks at my order and silence engulfs over us like gust of wind. I lift my other hand to stroke my thumb gently on her cheeks and a faint flush climbs her neck, up to her cheeks and she looks up at me, while I look down at her. Noises fade but I hear her breathing clearly. I also hear my struggling ability to swallow.
"I'll have it dry-cleaned" I say and drop my thumb to the smudged line of the pink lipstick on her cheeks then I swipe it over with a slowness that make my heart race. Her lips part in exhale and I leave my thumb on her bottom lips, feeling the gloss settle like heat on my skin. Her breath catches and it undoes something in me that I didn't know was held together.
"What's your name?" I question with a voice that's thick and groggy even to my ears.
"Eleanor." She responds and I release her wrist slowly, letting my fingers drag across her pulse point. She doesn't move. My blood rushes in my ears. I remove my thumb completely and step back before my beast tears her apart. The heat buzzing through my body is questioning.
"I'm sorry, sir," she repeats. I nod and walk toward the desk, swallowing the urge to correct her from saying sir. She walks faster, heading to the terminal. The shop is small and empty. The only one here: salesgirl and cashier. Money will get me what I want. It always does anyways.
"What time do you close, Anor?" She tilts her head, biting her lower lip.
"Three p.m." I nod, looking down as she rings up the perfume. I watch her work- the images of how perfect she'll look under me, spread out for me, flashes through my mind.
"Here you go, sir." I collect the bag and bill from her. Staring at her a little longer than necessary as I pay. I see the pulse jumping in her neck. The red in her skin deepens. She knows I'm looking. My getaway.
"My driver will pick you up," I finally decide, turning to head out. Right by the door,
"I... I'll be too sweaty," her voice stops me. I turn back.
"Moreover... if I'm not being delusional" she licks her lips and motion both hands down her body.
"I'm not properly dressed for a date." I walk back towards her with need in my steps, watching her chest rise and fall faster with each step I close. I reach out and place my palm against the side of her face. She goes completely still.
Her neck tightens, breath seizes, chest heaves rapidly while my own pulse forms a drumbeat of its own. The soft flesh of her cheeks settle into my skin as she leans a fraction into my palm. A sound builds low in my chest, my beast clawing to feast.
Without delay, I lean across the counter until my face is inches from hers. Near enough that I can feel the warmth her skin is putting out. Enough that her scent wraps me and my restraint develops a crack. Her lips part and eyes flutter at me..
"I will kiss you" I confess and her eyes widen. She isn't backing away. I drop the bag, raise my other hand to her neck, and connect our lips together. SHITSTORM.
Sparks fly across my brain, heat spreads around my head and my stomach forms unmistakable big knots as I kiss her. My mouth covers in on her lower lips, I bite it. Her pulse hum beneath my fingers and the heat of her cheeks light up my hand.
"Hmmmm" She groans and something sets off rapidly in my chest. Fuck. I deepen the kiss and press closer and her arm wrap around my neck, the other fishing my chest, my blood boiling at how impossibly soft and warm her lips are.
"Fuck" I grunt into her mouth and pull away slowly like I have all the time in the world, like I'm not fighting the urge to come fully over this counter and devour every flesh that grace her body. Her breath comes in shallow waves against my chin and her chest is pressing forward to my chest. Then I let go. The absence an unwrapping.
She stumbles back, one hand flying to her mouth, eyes darting everywhere but on me. Her chest is heaving, lips are wet and parted. I need to leave this shop in the next ten seconds or I won't. I hate the absence immediately but placate myself with the thought that she'll be mine in three hours.
"That... I've never... Why... I'm sorry," Even her stammering makes me smile.
"You won't need your dress for this date." I leave the shop feeling her gaze on me. It's been four months since I've had sex. That's a decision that's about to be rectified.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Fair warning. One of the readers on this book commented: If you don't like BDSM, RUN. Another commented: I don't read BDSM but this is great. And another: Handstock, blindfold, cuffs and public display ... Everything is touched. So Hot. Here's my Author's advice- If you want an obsessed man, but also Dominant. Want a submissive but make her Brat sub, THEN WELCOME! The comment section takes a fierce ride mid book. And I'll appreciate if you give more comments in early chapters. Gracias.
