I nodded, thankful he hadn’t chastised me further. Instead of arguing with him, I grabbed a fresh platter of desserts and headed outside. I needed to clear my mind of Evans and his goddamned rude friend.
I needed to do my job. Fuck knows I needed the hundred bucks badly.TwoKingI could smell the musk of her pussy from where she was standing, the tray shaking in her hands.
She was pretty, but that wasn’t what attracted me to her. The long blonde hair, the blue eyes, her nipped-in waist and long legs didn’t hold my attention. I had a woman like her every night, probably with bigger tits too. Hers were small, barely a handful from the looks of her blouse. Not something I usually went for. But she was still beautiful. Stunning, really.
But it didn’t matter to me how pretty she was.
No, it was the part of her she kept hidden from everyone else. The submissive side of her that lay under layers of false bravado, snappy remarks and bratty attitude. All of that could be taken away from her, beaten and choked and pinched and fucked until she was nothing but what I wanted her to be.
My pet.
I decided I wanted her the moment I saw her. And I knew she wanted me.
I left her once I’d disposed of Evans and then spent a painfully boring hour with some investors I was trying to impress. I could feel her eyes on me, following me around the room, tracing my every step even though she’d pretended she wasn’t interested in me earlier. She was watching me, waiting for me to make a move. But I wasn’t going to, and as the minutes passed, the scent of her desperation hit my nostrils, the need she felt for me to notice her, because she was too fucking pretty to be ignored.
Self-righteous little slut.
I excused myself from the investors and went to admire a painting hung on the wall of the gallery. It was pretentious as fuck, some slashes of paint across a blank canvas. What they were meant to represent was unclear, and I didn’t give a shit, either.
I felt her presence behind me, and she lingered behind my back for several moments before approaching me with a tray of drinks.
“Another glass, sir?” she asked, but I didn’t reply. She shuffled next to me, her motions nervous and unsure. Under that facade of braveness, she was really just a confused little girl. “Excuse me, sir? Would you like another glass of wine?”
“Why not,” I finally replied, taking a glass from her tray. I brushed my fingers against her hand deliberately and the glasses rattled as I did so.
“That’s a beautiful painting,” she said, standing there unnecessarily.
I grunted in response, almost feeling the hotness of her lust. She wanted attention. Spoiled little bitch.
“I don’t really have any art to speak of,” she added softly. It was all a fucking ploy to get my attention, and she was switching personalities faster than I went through women in my bed. Hard to get, seductive, sweet and innocent. Make up your fucking mind.
“Don’t you have a job to do?” I asked her roughly, still without a single glance in her direction.
She shuffled her feet and muttered something under her breath, a curse word I couldn’t quite make out. She made a move to leave, but my fingers wrapped smoothly around her wrist. Our eyes connected, hers surprised and mine insistent.
“You have a filthy fucking mouth,” I told her.
“That’s none of your business,” she replied.
“It doesn’t suit you,” I said.
“Oh, and what would?” she snapped back.
I gave her a once-over. Her neck was long, lily-white and tender. I could imagine the bruises blooming over her skin, could picture my hands cutting off her breath as she thrashed under my hard body.
“A collar,” I told her simply, and walked away.
She made a move to go after me, but someone called her back into the kitchen, and she left. I went to discuss something with the gallery owner, nodding and signing a check for him. Then I waited.
I waited until the gallery cleared and I was one of the stragglers left in the room. The staff was diminishing too, but I knew she wouldn’t leave without talking to me again. I knew that all too well.
She approached me with a furious expression, her eyes blazing and her hot little body tight with tension.
“You didn’t just do that,” she spat at me, and I grinned.
“Do what?” I asked her.
“You think you can buy my time like that?” she argued. “You think you can buy me a painting I like and I’ll fall at your feet and beg you to fuck me?”
I grasped her tiny forearm between my fingers and pulled her into a corridor where we had more privacy. She gasped when my fingertips connected with her skin, and I felt the vibrations of it right down to my twitching cock.