Collaring Cinderella

“Martha is your stepmother,” I repeated. “So, who is your father? What’s your story, little Ella?”

She wouldn’t meet my eyes, wringing the dirty cloth between her fingers. I hated the sight of it in her perfect little hands. I wanted to take it away, replace her casual outfit with an expensive dress, put a high-end lipstick on her lips and designer shoes on her dainty feet. I wanted to make her into the princess she was destined to be.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she said firmly, and I chuckled out loud.

“I’ll make it my business,” I assured her. “And you’re going to tell me all your fucking secrets next time I see you, Ella.”

She blushed and dodged my mouth when I leaned down against her. I still hadn’t touched her, hadn’t even laid a finger against her perfect skin. But God, I fucking wanted to. I wondered whether her skin would feel as smooth as it looked. I wondered if she’d hiss, moan or gasp as I dragged my teeth down her neck to her tits.

“I’ll let you go,” I said in a softer tone. “You can leave now, little Ella. But I’m going to find you later. I’m not done with you.”

She ducked under my arm to get away, and just as she was about to relax, I wrapped my fingers around her tiny wrist and pulled her tight little body against mine.

The reaction was instant, like a chemical explosion going off in a beaker and shattering the glass.

Her body submitted to mine like it was made to do so, and the second our skin touched, her back arched towards me. So fucking beautiful, and totally unable to resist the magnetic pull I’d already discovered. It just took one touch to convince her, and I could tell from the loud gasp that burst from her mouth that she was aware of the electricity between us.

“Yeah,” I grinned against her ear. “Just thought I’d show you what I knew the second I saw you on your knees, little Ella.”

“You… What did you do?” she asked shakily, finally raising those eyes to look into mine. “What did you do to me?”

“I put a spell on you,” I grinned at her. “And now you’re fucking mine.”

She ripped herself out of my embrace and started walking away from me, her fearful eyes looking over her shoulder. But there was a hint of a smile playing on those beautiful full lips, and it made me chuckle. If she wanted to play cat and mouse, I was more than game for it. It would make my victory that much sweeter, and I could make her do anything I fucking wanted once I finally got my big, strong hands on her doll-like body.

“See you around, Mr. Goldwyn,” Ella smiled softly over her shoulder.

My cock jumped to attention, the mere sound of her voice making it stand up and beg to be taken care of.

“Bye, little princess,” I muttered under my breath. “Maybe I’ll give you a pearl necklace before I let you wear your crown…”MARTHA WAS GIVING ME THE stink-eye.

It was hard not to notice it. Every time I turned towards her, she was glaring at me out of the corner of her eye, her mouth set in a thin line and her expression annoyed with everything I was doing. It was something I was used to, but that day it was especially vicious.

“I’m done with the dining room,” I told her, once I’d finished up. “I was thinking I could do the master bedroom next.”

“Done?” she asked, picking up a fork from the silverware drawer and inspecting it so closely I had to stifle back a laugh. “You call this done?”

“Yes,” I replied calmly. “I’ve scrubbed everything, and there’s nothing wrong with that fork. It’s perfectly clean.”

“If you’re happy with it,” Martha said in a cool tone. “I guess it will have to do, even though I would have done a better job, obviously.”

I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. She set the fork down and glared at me.

“You’re not doing the master bedroom, though,” she said, and I stared back at her. “Mr. Goldwyn doesn’t like anyone in there but me.”

She puffed her chest out when she said it, as if it was some special honor getting to clean a rich businessman’s mess in the bedroom.

Well, maybe when the businessman looked like Rafael Goldwyn, it really was an honor…

Sexy, tall, dark and handsome. A man who played the main role in so many teenage dreams, especially mine.

I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but when he’d cornered me earlier he’d guessed correctly. Of course, I’d seen him before—Martha never shut up about him. And since I was curious, I might have Googled him once or twice too many, staring at that ridiculously sculpted face covered in dark stubble. Okay, so maybe I was a little addicted to him. There was nothing wrong with having a little crush, was there?