Bought (His For A Week)

She scrunched her face, indicating she doubted he could be that serious. He was fucking serious. If he had to suffer, she would, too.

“Fine,” she said.

“Fine, what?”

“Fine, I’ll go with curtain number three.”

I made my choice, but I don’t like it, said her eyes and tone.

He returned a small smile. Doesn’t matter. You will.

“What’s the safety word this time?” she demanded, but her breath faintly quivered.

“Same as before: mercy.”

Anticipation swelled in his groin. It was bloody time to have some real fun.

“I get the phone as soon as we’re done?” she asked.

“As soon as you’ve completed everything behind curtain number three.”

“You didn’t specify that before.”

“You think I’m going to be okay if, five minutes in, you use your safety word?”

“What if I’m not able to complete everything?”

“You will.”

“What if I use my safety word twenty minutes in? How long does curtain number three last?”

“If you use your safety word before we’re done, then you haven’t completed curtain number three. As for how long it lasts, that’s up to you and whether you’re a good pet or not.”

She frowned. “So I don’t get anything for trying, even if I give it my best?”

“Do they give gold medals to athletes just because they tried their best? You’ve got to cross the finish line, pet.”

She pursed her lips. Those fucking lips he wanted wrapped around his cock. Nevertheless, he didn’t press her and let her take her time as she weighed the full brunt of her acceptance. This was her last chance to back out.

“All right, let’s get started,” she declared with impatience.

He scratched the stubble that had started to come in about his jaw. She sure wanted to talk to this Sam badly.

“You sound like you want this root canal over and done with.”

“At least I know what a root canal entails.”

Crossing to her, he chuckled. He grasped her by the chin. “I won’t promise curtain number three won’t be as miserable as a root canal for you, but if you let yourself, it could be a lot more enjoyable.”

Defiance still shown in her eyes. She wanted to prove him wrong. But he had wrested orgasms from her before, so he could it again. He would do it again.

She couldn’t know it, but her resistance made him more determined, made him more drawn to her. He ran his thumb across her cheeks and over her lips, drawing the bottom one down till they parted in the way that drove him crazy. She had pretty teeth. Even and white, a gleaming contrast to her darker skin.

“Don’t worry, pet,” he said softly. “You made a good choice.”

Her eyes shimmered and lost some of their defiance. He released her and stepped back. Wordlessly, she stared at him, still wary like a mouse cornered by the cat. Did she think he would add to the bruise on her cheek, or did she remember what he had said he wanted to do with her—fuck her, torment her, and devastate her?

“Go sit on the bed,” he instructed.