I look in the mirror for the hundredth time. I’m so nervous. Ryker called me and told me to dress up because he was taking me out tonight. I was excited and sad at the same time. I didn’t envision us leaving the house. I had hoped…

It doesn’t matter. If Ryker wants to take me out, then I’ll be fine with that. I look at the black dress I’m wearing. It’s not really fancy, but it does look flattering on me. It’s loose and flowy, falling just below my knees. It has a V-neck that shows off just enough cleavage to be called sexy. It comes up on my arms but has these cut-out sleeves that expose my shoulders. My long hair is piled high on my head in this messy bun that somehow looks kind of classy.

Overall I think I look good, attractive and ready for tonight. But at the same time I don’t know if it screams ‘sexy, mature woman.’ Will Ryker be disappointed? I’m hoping having my hair up will make me appear older and worldlier—a woman fit to be on the arm of someone like Ryker Stone. I look at my choice of shoes. I should have just gone with the flats. After working all night the evening before, my feet hurt. Still, it’s my first night off in forever and I’m going out with the man of my dreams—and hottest fantasies. I’m not about to do half-assed on this date.

With that in mind, I slip on the glossy black heels. I’ve nicknamed them fuck-me pumps. I’ve never worn them before, but then again, I’ve never wanted to be fucked by anyone other than Ryker. Now that this night is actually happening, I’m not taking any chances.

I just finish adjusting the strap on my heel when the knock sounds on my front door. I can almost feel my heart flip inside my chest as my tension cranks higher. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves before I open the door. When I have a hold of the handle and pull it open, Ryker is standing there in his old, faded jeans. The denim fabric hugs his body like a second skin, lovingly clinging to his thighs and stretching in ways that make my knees weak. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that looks soft and comfortable and I wonder how it would feel against my bare skin. I can feel wetness pool against my panties and coat the inside of my thighs. I have no idea how I’m supposed to go out with Ryker tonight when all I can think about is what he will do to me when we get back to his place.

His words play through my head, a promise of the dark, pleasurable things he’ll do to me tonight.

I step back to let him inside, running my tongue against my lips because my mouth suddenly feels terribly dry.

“Hi,” I murmur, my voice sounding deeper to my own ears. Can he hear how much I want him? Somehow I think a man of Ryker’s experience can.

“You look good enough to eat,” he says, his hand reaching out to run a finger along the inside of my neck.

His words are dirty and we both know how he means them. Goosebumps pop up on my flesh and I have to bite my lip to keep from begging him to touch me in other places.

“You get all dressed up for me, Lola?” he asks, and I can’t find my voice to answer. I nod my reply instead. Worry instantly assaults me when Ryker takes a step back, appraising me. “Turn around,” his rough voice commands.

My gaze lifts up to his, startled. I don’t think of disobeying him, however. I don’t see how any woman could. I turn slowly, wondering if I will meet with his approval, or if he will be disappointed. Will he wish he had picked out someone older? Someone with more experience, someone who can please him in the way he wants? A woman who understands and anticipates all of his desires? I feel completely out of my depth. You would have thought after spending the time in the office where Ryker brought me to orgasm, I’d feel more at ease. It appears the opposite is true.

“Are you wearing anything under that dress, Lola?” he growls as I turn back to face him.

“My…” My words come to a stop when I begin to literally feel the vibration of Ryker’s mood. At first I mistake it for anger, but one look at his face tells me that’s not it. It’s…hunger. “My panties,” I whisper, suddenly feeling more secure.

“Take them off,” he growls, issuing the order.

“I…I thought we were going out?” I question him.

“We are, but I want your pussy bare under that dress.”

“Why?” I ask, and it’s not that I’m that naïve, but I have this need to hear him tell me exactly why he wants me open to him.

“Because I’m going to fuck you with my fingers while we’re at the restaurant,” he tells me, crossing his arms at his chest as if daring me to deny him.

“What if… I mean… I might come…”

“Oh, you will definitely come, Lola,” he agrees and this time his throaty voice sends shockwaves through me, and they all seem to center in my very wet pussy.

“People around us will hear me, Ryker. They will know.”

“And every man there will be grabbing their cocks and wishing they were me. They’ll all be wishing they could fuck your sweet little virgin cunt. But they won’t, will they, Lola? They’ll be nutting off in their hands instead. And do you know why, Lola?” he asks, his dark gaze almost burning me with its intensity.

“Because I belong to you,” I tell him, instinctively knowing what he wants from me.

“Damn straight. Now I’m not telling you again. Take off those panties and hand them to me.” I move to turn around to go down the hall, but Ryker stops me by reaching out and grabbing my arm. “Where are you going?”

“I was going to my room to take off—”

“You’ll take them off right here in front of me,” he interrupts. My breath shudders through my body and I feel my excitement slide from my pussy, soaking my panties and dripping along my thighs. I’m so wet it’s embarrassing. I can even smell my own arousal. If I go out without panties on, others will too. They’ll all know I’m dying to have Ryker’s cock inside of me. They’ll know and I realize that’s exactly what he wants.

I reach under my dress, hooking my fingers in the waistband of the small black lace thong, thanking my maker that I decided to go with the sexy lingerie tonight to please Ryker. My dress covers me, though it rises high on my thighs because of my hands. The cool air hits the wet lips of my pussy and I feel wicked and desirable at the same time. I slide them down my legs while Ryker steadies me. I use one of my hands to brace myself on his arm as I step out of my panties and then straighten back up. I tentatively reach out to slop the material into Ryker’s waiting hand. They’re soaked. My cream has coated them and I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t—especially when Ryker brings them up to his face and pushes them against his nose, breathing in my scent. It turns me on in ways I never expected and I feel a fresh gush of wetness. At this rate he’s going to make me come and he hasn’t even really touched me.

“That’s good, Lola. Really good. I think you deserve a reward,” he tells me and it takes everything I have not to beg him to take me right then and put me out of my misery, because really that’s the only reward I want.

Instead, he pushes my panties into his pocket. It’s then I notice the small white box he is carrying. In my excitement and hunger before, I failed to take notice. He opens it and inside is a leather strap. It’s beautiful, slim, and delicate despite the material used to make it. It’s shiny black with one single silver pendant in the shape of a heart. Inside the heart is also a gold embossed L, standing proudly among a sea of small, shiny stones I know instantly are diamonds. I run my finger along the strip of leather, fingering the diamond heart, but that’s not what has my attention. I move my finger along the hand-tooled engraving that has been etched with clear painstaking care. One side says ‘Ryker’, and on the other side of the heart is the word ‘property’.

The words should turn me off, worry me, or at the very least make me send him away. They do none of those things.

“Is this for me?” I ask, unable to believe it. In answer, he turns me around and I move as if in a trance. He stands behind me then and I feel the leather come around my throat.

“It’s definitely yours, Lola,” he rumbles against my ear as he secures the collar—because instantly some sixth sense tells me that’s what it is—around my neck. The weight of it feels heavy, solid…significant. “Ask me how long I’ve had that made, Lola.”

“Ryker…”

“Ask me,” he instructs again.

“How long?” I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer just in case I’m wrong.

“Since the moment I first saw you as my woman, Lola. You were always mine. I just needed to wait on you to get ready for me,” he says.

My breath becomes ragged and before I know what’s going on I’m in his truck and he’s buckling me in the vehicle before I can form a sane thought.

I’m more than ready now.