DANIEL HAS PLACED me on a stool in the kitchen next to the large marble island, while he grabs two wine glasses.
“Wine?” He tips the empty glasses toward me.
“Definitely.” I grimace at my over enthusiasm for liquid courage.
“You wound me. Do you really need to be drunk to spend an evening with me?” He slaps his free hand playfully against his firm chest and supposedly injured heart.
“Ha, that’s funny! The drink is for my nerves. You have me on edge in more than one way. So, yes, I can definitely use a drink to help me survive an evening with you, Mr. Stone.”
“Red or white?” He smiles softly.
“What are we eating?” I inhale deeply.
“Sea Bass.” His confident reply has me surprised.
“You are cooking?” I raise a teasing brow. I know he’s not. There is not a cooking smell to be sniffed, as yet.
“No, Miss Thorne, I’m ordering in. My housekeeper in on holiday for two weeks, and if you were staying, I would have taken you out to eat. You have insisted on this ridiculous curfew, so I have a very limited time with which to enjoy you. So we are eating here, and I am ordering Sea Bass, Thai Sea Bass.” He is so sure of himself, it is easy to be seduced by his confidence and even more impossible to resist his demands.
“Yum, white wine then, please.” He pours a large glass of Pinot Gris, and I take two substantial fortifying sips. It’s crisp and fresh and goes down far too easily. “Would you like me to set the table, put my talents to use?” I offer mostly for something to distract my nerves.
“No. Those aren’t the talents I want to exploit, Miss Thorne.” He holds my gaze with implicit intent. “There are two things we need to address first.” He stands in front of me, takes my glass and places it on the island. He lifts me from my stool, as if I am no weight at all, and strides out of the kitchen. “First, I am going to make love to you like I would have if you had been honest with me on Saturday.” I gasp, and he grins, then whispers wickedly in my ear, “and second we are going the have a luxurious bath together, where we will explore the nature of all this fun we are going to have.” We’ve entered the largest bedroom suite I have ever seen. The floor to ceiling glass wall along two sides gives an unobstructed endless view over London, which is now aglow with evening lights. He carries me over to the corner where the two windows meet and stands me in front of a sumptuous looking chaise. “And then I’ll feed you,” he states as a matter of fact.
The lights in the room are low, soft and warm, but I shiver all the same. He stands close to my back but doesn’t touch me, and I quiver with anticipation. He leans so I can feel his warm breath against my neck, and I know his lips are suspended just above my skin. My skin flushes with a heat and instant rush of prickles. He has yet to touch me, and I’m burning up. I tilt my neck, a blatant show of submission, as I open my vulnerable neck to him. He groans approval but still doesn’t touch me.
“You know.” My attempt at a casual tone has failed with the high-pitched squeak mid-sentence. “My first time was pretty amazing, you really don’t need a do-over.” I press my thighs together to quell the burgeoning ache and get some release. This may well have been extra amazing if it was the first time, but since I now know exactly how high the heights of ecstasy are that this man can take me to, this tortuously slow pace is insufferable.
“Only pretty amazing? Had you said ‘mind-blowing’ or ‘out of this world’ even, I might forgo the ‘do-over’, but since neither expression passed those beautiful lips, I’m afraid I am going to have to go all out, Miss Thorne. I’m nothing if I’m not a perfectionist!” I can feel his wicked smile as his lips curl closer to my neck. “Bethany, I am going to drive you insane, I am going to make you come so many ways, so many times, and you’re going to scream my name so fucking loud, you won’t be able to speak after. Which will be a shame, because you’re going to be begging me to stop, and, baby, I won’t be able to hear you.” He plants the softest kiss on my neck and is rewarded with an uncontrollable full body shudder.
He wraps his strong arms around my waist and unties the bow which holds my dress together, and it falls open. He puts his large hot hands flat against my stomach and presses my body back against his. There is no mistaking that he is as turned on as I am; the thought makes me moan, and I grind a little into his hardness. He slides his hands up and cups my aching breasts over my bra, pinching and rolling the hard nubs between his thumbs and forefingers just to the point of pain. Instant sparks shoot straight to my core, and I start to draw rapid breaths, trying to keep up with my pounding heart.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Bethany, and you have no fucking idea what you do to me.” He mumbles into my neck as he drags his teeth along my skin, leaving a searing mark in its wake. He moves his hand to slip my dress from my shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. He again scoops me up in his arms and strides toward the bed and carefully lays me down. He frowns, and it looks like he has changed his mind.
“I know you take instruction very well, but I think this first time I want to worship your body vanilla style.” His smile is stunning, he has a strong jaw and defined cheekbones. His crystal eyes sparkle with lust and desire. He could keep me as a sex slave for all the kink he could dream of at this moment in time, but the decadent way he suggests vanilla is pure sin. I decide to keep my first thought to myself. He kneels on the bed and takes my feet in his lap. He starts to massage and stroke. He varies the pressure as he makes his way up my legs, using his thumb to draw out long strokes easing tension from my muscles. I close my eyes and release a heavenly sigh. He gives a light laugh, but continues his ministration up my legs. He has to kneel up and his muscled thighs flex as they encase mine, trapping me, not that I would want to be anywhere but right here.
He lightly traces his fingers along the outline of my panties but moves on to my tummy. He slides his hands and grips my waist as he bends over and kisses a path from my belly button to the top of my panties where he releases a burst of warm breath. He then kisses a trail all the way up to my throat, avoiding my aching, heavy breasts. My fingers twitch, and I start to raise my hand. He looks up to my eyes, which are now open. “I said I wasn’t going to give you instruction, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want this my way.” His calm tone leaves no chance of misunderstanding his meaning, and I lay my hand back flat against the bed. Is it too early to start screaming his name? He swoops back to my neck and sucks hard, pulling my tender skin into his mouth, marking me, releasing a scorching heat deep inside, and I buck a little, but I manage to still myself before he stops again. He hovers above me, holding his weight from my body.
“Can you turn over, Bethany? I’d like to work on your back, but I can’t promise I’ll be quite so restrained when I reach that glorious arse of yours.” I wiggle and flip onto my front, sad that I can’t kiss his lips from here. He unclips my bra and shuffles down, then starts to pull my panties down. “What the fuck is this?” He sounds really angry, and I jump and try to crane my neck around to see why. “Who did this to you?” It usually takes a few days for the bruising to show, especially on my butt, and I sag back into the soft covers and laugh. “It’s not fucking funny, Bethany. Who hurt you?” His harsh tone is filled with misplaced concern.
“I did. Well, me, Marco and the mat; it’s from my Krav Maga class. It can be brutal, and I bruise like a peach. It’s nothing, always looks worse than it is.” I wiggle my bottom to indicate just how fine I am.
“Marco is responsible?” He sits back on his ankles and crosses his tanned arms. This highlights the defined muscle of his biceps, and I get distracted by the tempting sight. “Bethany!” He barks, his is so not happy about this. Talk about a mood changer!
“Yes, Marco is responsible for dragging me to self-defense classes every week, so that if I were ever to be attacked, I could fight them off with more than just my bad language.” I lift myself onto my elbows to half twist around so I can challenge his angry stare. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Yes… no, not the classes, no. Just you getting hurt, and I would very much like it if you didn’t talk about getting attacked.” His deep frown mars his perfect face. It’s kind of sweet, though.
“Not another word.” I smile and make to lock my lips and throw away the key, but before I do, I add with an arched brow, “You were definitely in the middle of something more interesting than this conversation.” I throw the invisible key and flop back down, slightly arching my hips to lift my bottom. He growls, but his hands begin to slowly caress my bottom in smooth circles. I know he is tracing the bruises, because I can hear his teeth grind, and he is being extremely tentative. He begins again, starting at my feet, repeating the moves he made on my front. By the time he reaches my neck, my whole body is thrumming with desire. My teeth are clenched, he must be able to feel the tension as I fight my body’s desire to writhe with pleasure and come. I just need to come. I think if he so much as put the tiniest pressure on my clit right now, I would explode.
“Something you need, baby?” He whispers in my ear and traces his tongue around the shell, nibbling on my lobe. I tremble and whimper into the pillow. His deep rumble vibrates his chest and sends waves of shivers across my body. I feel his hand on my bottom, his fingers slide between the cheeks, over my tight entrance, which twitches at his light touch, and his finger slides into my wetness. He plunges two fingers deep inside. My hips buck instantly, and my core contracts greedily, grabbing at his fingers, which he pumps into me, riding my climax and pushing me on and on. He reaches and presses my clit, rubbing with a light circling motion with the pad of his finger. Before my body has stopped pulsing, he continues to pump and rub, building the pressure once more. This time I scream. I scream with shock and wonder, loudly into the pillow, which I have grabbed tight against my face. It muffles the sound but also prevents me from taking in any oxygen, and I turn my head and gasp. I’m seeing spots before my eyes as he takes my hips and flips me over. I must look a little dazed.
“You need to breathe, Bethany.” He has an undeniable cocky grin fixed on his face but refrains from laughing. “Don’t pass out! You know I’m not finished.” He sinks his teeth into my neck again, drawing an agonizing moan of pleasure from me, and I wrap my arms around his back and feel his strong muscles move and flex. He covers my mouth with his and swipes his tongue, forcing my lips apart, tasting and taking everything I return. He breaks the contact and hovers above me. I clench my tummy to raise myself to meet him, to reach his soft mouth. He smiles, and I lunge again, but his reflex is too quick, and I am left wanting, needing to feel his delicious kiss again. “Na ah, now, what’s got you so greedy?” I try and pull him down, but he is solid muscle and I don’t stand a chance of taking him with me, unless he wants to give. I blow out a frustrated sigh. “Oh, poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?” Oh. My. God. Yes! No, I said that in my head, and he needs to know this.
“Please. Oh, God, yes, please, please, I want that.” I pant shamelessly. He widens his smile. He is so gorgeous.
“Oh, I do love it when you beg.” He drops his scorching kisses along my collarbone and skims down to my breast. He palms one and suckles my nipple on the other. He swirls his tongue, flicking the sensitive end before he repeats this with my other breast. He then nibbles and sucks his way down. My breath hitches, the anticipation unbearable. He sits back and with his strong hand forces my legs wide. I am completely open for him and his gaze is on fire. “You’re so beautiful, Bethany. I have to taste you.” He swipes his tongue the full length of my core and laps my clit. I instantly tense with the familiar feelings of an imminent climax.
“Oh, Fuck, Daniel…. Ahhhh!” Christ, that was quick, intense, and not over as he continues to swirl and suck. He dips his tongue inside, and I grab his hair. My hips are shaking, and I am desperate to get more air. I’m panting. With that he fixes his mouth over my clit and sucks. “Ahhh, God!” I scream again, and my thighs grip his head, trying to stop the overload of pleasure his talented mouth is bombarding me with. I fall limp, still trembling. He sits up, and it’s only then I realize he is still fully clothed, and I am naked, sated, and limp. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a foil packet. He holds my heated stare as he tears the packet with his teeth. He unbuckles his belt and pushes his trousers down to his thighs. His erection hard against his stomach, I bite my lip. I know how good he tastes, and I can’t take my eyes off him as he sheaths himself.
“Nice thought, but tonight is all about you, baby.” He covers my body with his weight, God, I love the feeling of being dominated in this way. It just feels so primal. He positions his wide crown against my slick folds and rubs, spreading my wetness along his shaft. “Baby, I’ve tried to make this easy, making you come like that, but I can’t wait any more so this might still hurt a little. We’ll take it slow.” His voice sounds ragged, and I can see the tiny droplets of sweat bead at his temples. The softness in his eyes and the concern in his voice has me fighting a lump in my throat. Not quite able to speak, I simply nod. “Okay, baby?” He fixes his eyes on mine as he pushes slowly into me. My body contracts at the intrusion, but it’s not so bad. He pushes further, and the feeling of fullness and stretching is wonderful. He groans and starts to change the angle and rolls his hips. Oh, good God, that feels amazing--again in my head.
“Oh, God, Daniel, that feels amazing,” I cry out. His slow steady thrusts drive into me and I can feel his reticence, his hesitation, his tender intentions. It’s Heaven, and I want more. “Do you think you could go faster? Deeper?” I want every bit of him. He laughs.
“Yes, Bethany, I can definitely do that.” He groans as he plunges deep.
“Ahh, fuck!” I yell, and he freezes. “No, ahh, Fuck, in a good way Daniel. Don’t stop, please, please, don’t stop.” He pulls back and plunges again; deep, hard, and it’s fantastic. The friction and burn set a fire racing inside me. He thrusts and pumps into me, shaking my body, filling me, riding me. His eyes are heated with lust and the guttural sounds escaping him are a wild addition to the sounds of our bodies moving together. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he grabs my arse cheeks and pulls me tighter against him, closer against each thrust. The exquisite deep sensation I feel, as his cock rubs and touches sensitive tissue deep inside, takes my breath away. My body takes over and starts the steady climb to ecstasy. I feel Daniel shift, and he starts to pump faster into me, chasing his own release.
“Bethany, come with me?” The urgency in his voice has my body spiralling.
“Yes, yes, Daniel. Ahhhh!” I scream.
“Fuck!!” He pumps and grinds deep, filling me and taking every bit for his own release. His hot heavy body covers mine and we lay, two sweaty bodies, entwined and exhausted. Well, I know I am. Not sure where he gets his stamina from, but Daniel has already rolled from the bed, left the room, and returns with a bathrobe. I am still a quivering mess.
“Here. I don’t want you getting dressed again.” He hands me a robe which is enormous, so at least I know it’s his and not his girlfriend’s. Wait! This is just a bit of fun, right? But I frown to myself at this unwelcome thought.
“What’s wrong?” His obvious concern does nothing to quell the troubled feelings swirling inside, causing an unsettling tightness in my chest.
“Nothing. Nothing at all, so stop worrying. You didn’t even hurt my bottom.” I smirk.
“Yet.” He calls over his shoulder as he disappears again. I get goose bumps at the veiled threat. I wrap his robe around me and head off to find him. He is in the kitchen pouring more wine.
“Change of plan. Food first, you for dessert.” He grins. “Then bath. Sound good?”
“Sounds time consuming?” I hate that I have to bring my reality into this fairy-tale.
“I’ll have you back by one, Cinderella.” He grumbles but kisses me on the head, and holding my hand, he sits me back on a stool while he orders the food. He then sets a bowl with hot water on a warming plate and places a small pouring jug and a fancy looking jar of chocolate praline in the water. He has a smirk that makes him look both devilish and young. He walks back to me and places his large palms on my cheeks and smothers my mouth with his hungry lips. “For dessert.” He adds but doesn’t explain further.
There is a buzzing, which announces our food. The exotic aromas of ginger and lemongrass follow him back to the kitchen, and we sit at the island and eat with chopsticks out of the boxes. The sea bass is juicy and melts in the mouth; the food is light, fresh and utterly delicious. More so because most of my meal is fed to me and he keeps having to adjust himself in his loose fitted lounge pants, every time I lick my lips in appreciation as I suck the food from his chopsticks.
“Are you always hard?” My unfiltered curious mind is getting the better of my manners. He shifts again.
“Always around you, yes, which is lucky for me, because I always want to fuck you.” He playfully picks up a large chunk of fish and drops it in his hungry mouth.
“And lucky for me, because it seems I always want to be fucked.” That sounds wrong now that I have said it aloud, and his frown confirms this. “Always want to be fucked by you. Yeah, definitely meant to say it like that.” I put my chopsticks down and climb onto his lap, my legs wrapping around his waist and my naked sex resting directly above his straining erection. “You said something about a luxury bath?” I roll my hips enjoying the friction from the thin material over his hard length.
“No, I said something about dessert, then bath.” His hands hold my hips still but keep the pressure securing me fixed against him.
“I don’t think I could eat another thing.” The food was heavenly, but I am stuffed.
“You may not, but I’m still hungry.” His eyes are liquid heat. He stands with my legs wrapped around his waist, and he carries me over to the large leather sofas in the corner of the room. He slips his robe from me and lays it flat on the sofa before he sits me down on top with my feet on the floor. “Don’t move.” Wouldn’t dream of it. He returns carrying the small pouring jug and a clear bowl with milky white cubes which he places on the coffee table. He kneels on the floor and spreads my legs. He runs a finger up my core. I jolt, my body instantly responding. “Mmmm.” He sucks the same finger slowly. “Now, you taste fucking amazing, and there is nothing that could improve what I’ve got before me, but you did mention something about fun?” I nod, because I am now breathless with excitement. “So in the spirit of fun, I’m going to add a few ingredients to this beautiful dessert.” He sweeps his hot palm across my tummy and squeezes my breast. “God, your tits are perfect”. He leans towards the table and picks up one of the cubes.
His eyes scorch my body and fix on mine. “Now, hold very still, or this will get very messy very quickly.” He takes a white cube and draws tiny circles around my tight puckered nipple, and I instantly arch at the sting of the freezing cube. I can feel droplets as the cube melts against my flushed skin, and he dives to suck up the droplets before they run from my breast. The heat of his mouth and roughness of his tongue has my skin ablaze. “Hold still, remember?” He admonishes me with a warning scowl. I swallow the dryness in my throat. This is going to be impossible. He repeats the circling motion of the cube, moving from one nipple to the other. The initial shock of the cold has subsided, and I am able to remain still, despite the building pressure and need between my legs. The cube has melted, and my body is streaked with rivulets of white liquid. He then leans to retrieve the white jug and pours a single drop on my tummy. It’s warm liquid chocolate. He trails a line of chocolate droplets up between my breasts to my collar bone where the liquid pools in the indentation in the center. He continues to pour single drops on my breasts trying to hit the sensitive peaks, and each time sparks of desire shoot straight to my clit.
He puts the jug down and admires his Jackson Pollack attempt at food art before leaning down and tortuously and slowly licking every drop from my body. I’m trembling on the edge, and although I know he poured no liquid there, I am molten hot between my legs. He eases his way down my body and carefully brings me to a mind-blowing climax with his gifted tongue. He holds me until my body stops convulsing, and my breathing becomes a little more normal.
“Oh! Oh, wow!” I throw my arm over my face, still drawing in deep breaths. “I have got to try that. My turn.” I lift my head to meet his darkly heated glare and relaxed smile.
He laughs. “No time, your timescale, baby, not mine.” He reminds me and laughs at my instant frown.
“But?” I pout. He has already removed himself and the ingredients. “What are the white cubes?” I grab the robe, which is now a little sticky.
“Frozen cream.” He places all the remaining ingredients on the island top.
I take one of the cubes, dip it through the chocolate and pop it in my mouth. “Mmmm, that’s good.”
“Chocolate, cream and you, nothing better.” He grins and wickedly licks his lips.
I lower myself into the corner bath, which is the size of a small swimming pool. It’s so deep, I am floating and have to steady myself holding the edges. My smile is so wide right now, it’s too easy to believe this is real. Daniel strides in gloriously naked, and I know this isn’t real. No one really looks like that, with toned strong muscles, narrow waist, broad shoulders, and his thick long cock hard against his stomach.
“It’s rude to stare.” He walks over and steps in behind me, sliding all that manliness around my slick wet body.
“It would be ruder not to.” I sigh and lean back into his chest. He starts to cup water into my hair and washes me. I am relaxed and sated, soft and pliant. He could ask me anything and I couldn’t think of a good reason not to tell him or deny any request; but then I think, that is exactly the point when he begins to talk.
“Now Bethany, this.” He waves his wet hand mockingly between us. “This is not just fun, and you know it. That’s not even debatable. But if it helps us to move forward by calling it that, if it helps you, we will call it fun. So, now, I would like to have as much fun with you as possible, as much as I can get.” I can’t help but giggle at this, abundantly aware that his heavy cock twitches against my back each time he says the word fun. “That means I want your schedule, so we can synchronize, and I want you to cut your work hours. I also want you to stay here with me.” He sounds like a petulant child, which just makes me laugh again.
“Wow, Daniel, that’s some list.” I laugh and twist my neck round to see his own face fixed and frowning.
“Before you respond, think carefully if you think I have got where I am today by not being single minded and determined at getting what I want.” His stern tone might be intimidating if he wasn’t all naked and wet, with his massive hard-on pressed against my backside.
“And it’s very impressive, brilliant and inspiring, but getting what you want in this instance, well, it’s not that simple. I have commitments.” I pause before elaborating, “You can have my schedule, but it’s kind of full. I can’t cut my hours, as I need the money to pay for mum’s care. I guess I can stay here, sometimes, but I have to make arrangements first.” I roll my neck as I feel some tension start to build, I hate confrontations, and this feels a lot like one. His hands are on my neck in an instant squeezing and pressing the knots with his thumbs.
“Cut some of your hours, and spend some of that time with me? It would make me very happy.” His soft voice is pleading, and I get the feeling that doesn’t happen very often, and I’m touched. I don’t understand, why me? And I don’t understand why I want to please him so much, but I do.
“Daniel.” I exhale and lean my head to the side to look up to his face. I need to see his eyes; they are intense, sincere, and beautiful. “I’ll try, okay? But this fun has my flight instinct on high alert. You may be single minded and determined, but I’m all about self-preservation.” I nudge him with my elbow and receive instant hard fingers digging in my ribs making me squirm. “Bruise like a peach, remember?” I plead, and he stops, then squeezes me tight instead, holding me like that until the water starts to cool. He pats my body dry with the fluffiest towel and then proceeds to slather my skin in a ginger soufflé body cream. His hard erection brushing and poking my body throughout the process is driving me mad, but every time I try and make a play for him, he steps away with an arched brow and taps the watch he is wearing. I am being punished for my ridiculous curfew. But I can hardly cut my Late Night commitment if he wants me to reduce my hours at the restaurant.
I’m dressed but with no panties and sitting on the corner sofa in the lounge with my legs tucked beneath me, holding a glass of golden liquid, Cointreau over ice. It burns and warms.
“This fun has some rules, Bethany.” His serious tone piques my interest.
“Go on.” I swirl the golden liquid, my lips curling with amusement.
“I believe I mentioned I don’t share, and you can expect a reciprocal arrangement, although you wouldn’t ask because that might give away your feigned indifference?” He cocks a brow, but I respond by taking another sip of my drink. “No lies. I don’t expect full disclosure, but if I ask you something, I don’t want you to lie. There will be no boundaries in the bedroom.” My eyes widen at the implications of that statement “But you trust me, and it is only ever about pleasure with us,so that won’t be an issue, and I want you to take some birth-control, because I don’t want to wear a condom with you. I fucking hate condoms.” His recited list sounds more like points of action at a board meeting.
“Please?” I say seriously but have to bite my lips to keep up the façade.
“Excuse me?” His face shows utter astonishment. It’s funny.
“I want you to take some birth control…please?” I slowly emphasize the ‘please’.
“Bethany.” He rumbles, his jaw tense. “I would like you to take some birth control,” He leans in to my ear and whispers, “please.” Shivers ripple over my body, and I lean into his warmth. He stands and takes my hand. It’s time to leave.
He drives me home and escorts me to my door where he folds me in his arms, his head resting on mine.
“I’ve had a wonderful evening, Daniel; mind blowing.” I add and he laughs.
“I can’t promise not to fall in love with you, Miss Thorne, but if you can promise not to fall in love with me, we will be safe having fun. By your definition, then it can only be you that does the leaving. And, Bethany,”--he looks deep into my eyes--“I am never going to let that happen.” He kisses me with such passion, I want to crawl up his body and take him again. I can’t believe he just said those things and kisses me like that then casually walks back to his car. “Email me your schedule, first thing!” He demands and gets in his car. He is waiting until I am inside, but I don’t think my legs will move. I finally move at the sound of his horn, and hurriedly turn, then go inside. Once in my apartment, I realize I don’t have his email address. Thinking I’ll text him in the morning, I notice another box just inside my door, but I had already had one delivery. I pull at the tape and remove a folded Harvey Nichols bag; it’s light, and a card falls to the floor. It is handwritten:
Seven sets of individually wrapped beautiful lace lingerie in white and pastel shades lay in my lap. I am again speechless.
My life feels very much like a fantasy at the moment. I am sitting in my other lingerie, the deep purple silk and black lace set, waiting for my call. If I’m honest, I would rather not take this call tonight. I’ve had so much sensory thrill with Daniel tonight, I don’t want to have that memory replaced, just yet. I would like to savour the evening a little more. I close my eyes and my mind wanders: each touch of his hand, each heated kiss, each graze of his teeth, each thrust from his cock. I moan and arch, wriggle and writhe. I am loving the detail of this recollection. My heart is beating fast, and it’s all too vivid, and I find I have a desperate need demanding attention between my legs when the phone rings. I’m dazed, and I jump for the phone, taking a little longer in this state. It is nearer to two in the morning, this call is very late.
“Sir.” I answer on the second ring.
“Lola.” His deep voice vibrates through me. “I trust you have a good excuse for your delay in answering my call?”
“Yes, Sir. I was thinking and got a little carried away.” It’s the truth, at least.
“Something good, I hope?” His voice is both calming and seductive.
“Yes, Sir, something very good.” I am glad he didn’t ask if I was thinking of him, because as it is I haven’t lied.
“Would you like to tell me about it?” I don’t ; I don’t want to share this and I hesitate.
“No?”
Interesting… I think the purple suits you. You look good enough to eat, dessert, perhaps?” I sit up shocked at this remark. “I assume you chose to wear the second set of lingerie I sent you? It’s the logical choice, and the lace reminds me of icing, sweet like a dessert.” I hear the words, but I’m still a little freaked by the reference to dessert.
“The lace is very beautiful, Sir.” I barely manage to reply.
“Yes, very.” He pauses “Good night, Lola.” The line goes dead.
That was strange, mercifully brief, but very strange.
Now, I sit wide-awake, a little bit freaked and a little bit horny. I slip out of my underwear, back into my soft oversized T-shirt and pull my ancient laptop onto my lap, groaning at its weight. It sounds like a tractor starting up and I probably have time to make another bedtime drink before it’s open but I wait patiently. I decide to send Daniel my schedule:
Subject:Schedule
Mr. Stone,
Schedule as promised. Also a woman of my word. Work your magic!
Regards,
Miss Thorne
I am about to power down when I get a return email:
Subject: Ridiculous schedule
Miss Thorne,
Your revised schedule as approved. I accept that some library time is necessary for your studies, but at the expense of work, not time with me. Any free time is also to be assumed to be mine. Ensure your work schedule is amended accordingly this week. Note that this revision allows for you staying over on Sun, Wed, Fri and Sat evening. So make necessary arrangements for your other commitments, which currently prevent this. Your class on Saturday will now be with my personal trainer and you also have a doctors’ appointment Monday at 1:30 p.m. I’ll send a car. This is an unprecedented level of compromise on my part.
You’re mine, Miss Thorne.
Daniel Stone
CEO
I decide to call him rather than play email tennis, as it is too difficult to gauge tone that way.
“Miss Thorne?” His voice is low and soft. Oh, God, he sounds like sex.
“Mr. Stone, don’t you sleep?” I quip.
“Not very much, no, although I probably would if you were beside me. Would you like me to come and get you? Are you worried if I’m getting enough sleep?” The thought of him coming to get me heats my cheeks and has me off topic. Ignoring his questions, I continue.
“Mr. Stone, don’t you think your amendments are a tad unreasonable?” I try to argue lightly.
“Not in the least.” His answer, abrupt and decisive, and I sigh.
“Even if I could cut my hours I can’t just leave Anthony short staffed like that, it wouldn’t be fair.”
“So letting Anthony down is your only objection?” I can sense he is fishing for obstacles he can obliterate.
“No, it’s not. You work long hours, I’m sure; although there’s not much evidence of that lately.” I scoff. “What am I supposed to do if you’re working and I’m not? I think I mentioned my aversion to being at someone’s beck and call?”
“Bethany, all I ask is that you cut your hours slightly and spend that time with me. More than likely we’ll be working alongside each other, but I would just rather have you there with your head in a book than in a library with your head in a book.” He makes me sound so unreasonable and I can’t deny I like the idea of spending more time with him, perhaps a little too much.
“But I have a life too--well not much of a life--but I am not going to cut my family from that. I will still be attending classes with Marco and I will still be going out with Sofia, like I am on Friday.” I thought I should put that in while we appear to be negotiating. The truth is I really like spending time with him, outside of the sex, which is awesome; I really enjoy his company. He makes me feel safe, and no one has done that in a long time. That in itself is why I know I am fighting this losing battle. What Daniel represents and what he is offering are wholly seductive and scary as hell.
He ignores my Friday comment but grumbles in frustration. “You have no idea how frustrating this is. I don’t capitulate, I rarely negotiate, and I always get what I want, and you have me compromising left and right! Impossible!” He exhales dramatically. “All right, you get the gym but you also come with me to my personal trainer. You get your Uni-time--although one of those lectures is mine--and you also get one day working a daytime shift, which I am happy to sort with Anthony if you would prefer? The rest is mine!” It is a closing statement.
“Wait!” I call out before he hangs up, “I’ll speak to Anthony, please don’t.” I plead because I have not had someone intercede on my behalf for I don’t know how long.
“All right, but tomorrow, Miss Thorne. Do it tomorrow. Now if you don’t mind, I’m feeling sleepy now, someone wore me out today.” I can hear his smile.
“Ha! You’re so funny! Says the one with Red Bull running through his veins. Goodnight, Daniel.” I smile and sink into my covers trying to recreate the warmth he incites, a pointless exercise.
“Goodnight, Bethany.” The phone goes silent in my hand.