I shrug, turning in a half circle and surveying the room. Actually, there isn't really a whole lot left to be done, is there?
“It's just that, you know, I wouldn't mind having a little more to do. Oh! Which reminds me. I’ve started to think about what I'd like to do with the money.”
He pivots behind me, running his hands down the front of my dress and hiking it up over my knees. I can feel he's already hard against my the small of my back and my body asks me to please shut up now, because there is something much more fun I could be doing with my mouth.
“What you are going to do with the money?” he growls as his hands wander over my hips and then cup my ass, squeezing firmly, pulling me open from behind.
“Yes, the money,” I sigh vaguely, letting my head tip back toward his shoulder.
“I thought you decided not to do anything with the money.”
“Yes, but it is my money,” I say. “I just hadn’t decided yet, is all…”
“Okay, no more talking now,” he growls, sliding a finger into me from behind and making me gasp.
My breath hitches in my throat. I want to say something to continue the conversation, but my physical need blows that all away. I wonder for just a moment if I'm letting go of control again, letting someone else tell me what to do with my life. Even if he has my best interest at heart, shouldn't I be in control of my own destiny?
But that thought dissolves under the swarm of kisses that he places against my neck and he's turning me, pulling me to him, dragging us both down onto the carpet. And then I can only think of one thing, just one thing as he pushes my knees apart and he's back inside me, owning me, making me beg him to crush the breath out of me.
Just one thought.
King.
16
Raleigh
When I arrive back at our flat, she is standing just beyond the foyer wearing the dress I had delivered. It cascades from her shoulders in a waterfall of crystals and shimmering silver mesh. She pivots slightly to the left and the right, her elbows held out from her sides.
“If you keep looking at me like that, we won't leave the flat,” I warn her.
“It's beautiful,” she sighs. “I almost couldn't believe it when I opened the box. How did you find this? Did you have it made for me or something?”
I glide toward her, already imagining pulling the dress off. I can almost feel the crystals under my fingertips, the way that they would nip at my skin as I undressed her. I could have her naked in four seconds. I would be a shame to shred a $12,000 dress, but some things are worth doing.
“Remember that little shop? The Rodarte?”
She nods slowly. A small curl of hair dislodges itself from her updo and bounces prettily against her forehead.
“Are you saying they remembered me? My size and everything?”
“You made quite an impression on them.”
As she's breathing, I can see the pale shadow under her nipples as they move beneath the fabric. It's extremely distracting.
“We should be going,” I grunt, aware that it's early but afraid of what I will do if we delay anymore.
She picks up a beaded handbag off the side table. “Where are we going?”
She turns her back to me so that I can fasten the vintage mink stole over her creamy, narrow shoulders. The scent of her perfume wafts into my mouth and again I feel that surge of ravenous hunger building inside me. I vow to get her through the event as quickly as possible and then get her somewhere we can be alone.
“Just a work thing, darling.”
Her shoulders slump slightly beneath my hands. “A work thing?”
She pivots to face me and raises her eyes toward mine. What was she expecting?
“Yes, Little Girl, a work thing. That's what I do. I work. Promise me to be on your best behavior.”