Buttons and Lace (Buttons 1)

He walked out and approached his sports car waiting at the curb. He threw on his sunglasses and got inside the car, starting the powerful engine with the push of a single button. He turned to me and gave me the coldest stare I’d ever seen, even with his eyes hidden.

My footman shut the door just before he drove off, breaking our eye contact. I knew a threat when I was issued one, and I didn’t like it one bit. No one threatened me unless they were suicidal.

No one.

***

I unlocked the door and entered the playroom.

She was lying on the bed with her knees bent. She stared at the ceiling, inspecting the leather straps hanging from hooks. “That was quick.”

“We didn’t have much to say.” My bad mood had festered during the walk to the playroom. My jaw was clenched, and a distant migraine thudded behind my eyes. I approached the bed and stood with my hands in my pockets.

“He ticked you off.” She wasn’t happy with me after the way I treated her last night. She came to my room in the expectation of finding comfort.

I shut that down pretty quickly. “He wants to fuck you.” I looked at the whips and chains sitting on the sterile tabletop. I’d used my tools on a handful of girls, but it was never that much fun. They always asked me to stop once we’d begun. Others were paid to play the role. That wasn’t exciting either.

She sat up, her attention piqued. “Are you going to let him?”

“No one will ever fuck you but me.”

She sighed in relief. She didn’t bother hiding the reaction. She loved my cock inside her, and she didn’t want anyone else. When we screwed, she fell into the darkness with me like it was meant for her. She acclimated to the intensity immediately, having a backbone of steel and a fearless heart. She was just as much of a beast as I was—even if she didn’t realize it. “That’s good to know. Then why are you so...grouchy?”

“Because he won’t drop it.”

“He’ll lose interest eventually. I’m nothing special.” She crossed her legs in front of her and held on to her ankles.

It was the first time I chuckled that day. She surprised me with the strange things she said.

“Something funny?” she asked coldly.

“You.”

“And what’s so funny about me?” She turned defensive, uneasy that I had knowledge she lacked.

“You’re very special. You’re the most special woman I’ve ever met—and I’ve met a lot.” I never knew a woman who could fight so fiercely. I never knew a woman who wouldn’t break under pressure. I never knew a woman so strong. It turned me on just thinking about it.

She pressed her lips tightly together as she considered what she might say next. A question was coming. Her brain was hard at work. “Come here.” She patted the comforter she sat on.

I didn’t like being told what to do, but I wouldn’t deny an invitation. My obsession was sitting in my playroom, and she didn’t have a clue how much danger she was in. I wanted to hook her wrists to the leather straps and suspend her over the floor.

I kicked off my shoes before I sat beside her, just inches away from her mouth. The second I was close to her, my blood screamed for release. I wanted to slap her hard across the face and then kiss her even harder.

“Can I ask you something?”

My hand moved to her thigh, feeling the muscle underneath her beautiful skin. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“If you’re going to ask me several questions I don’t want to answer, I want something in return.”

“You always want something in return.”

“Yeah.” I wasn’t ashamed of that fact. I was a businessman. I didn’t do anything for charity. “Don’t we all?”

“What do you want?”

“What I always want.” I squeezed her thigh gently.

“Do I get a button?”

“Yes. But you have to give me a button if you want answers.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I have to pay to get something out of you?”

“Exactly.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“That’s our world, Button. That’s our currency. You want something from me, you have to pay for it. When I want something from you, I have to pay too. It’s the fairest relationship in the world, actually.”

She watched my hand as it massaged her.

“So, what’s it going to be?”

She held her silence as she deliberated. A strand of hair fell from behind her ear, and she tucked it away. “I want to ask my questions.”

“And I want to fuck you. Looks like we have an agreement.”

“So, I can ask whatever I want?”

“Can I fuck you however I want?” I challenged.

Fear entered her eyes when she understood my meaning. “No.”

“Then be selective.”

She fell silent as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say. Finally, she spoke. “Why do you like to hurt me?”