The next few weeks were a blur of Carter Ray. Man, had he been lowballing it with his “a few times a week.” No, nearly every other day I had a text setting a time and a place I was to meet him, sometimes even what to wear.

There had been The Ritz, ask for my room at the desk, 11:30 p.m., West Village Marshall’s, as it’s closing. I know a guy, and even 4 p.m., the train tracks behind the old factory, no panties.

And it had been great, more than great. It had been fan-fucking-tastic. Carter had shown me the ropes of being a submissive, as it were. He’d tied me up, blindfolded me, spanked me, handcuffed me, whipped me. He’d fucked me soft and slow, hard and fast; he’d fucked me until I’d been begging for more.

At my usual corner table of Blue’s during my break, I glanced at my phone glumly.

Nope, still nothing. Our contract had been for two weeks, and the two weeks were up today. All day I had been expecting a text, an acknowledgement, anything. But all I’d gotten was more eye-fucking from Kyle, and a silent phone.

Could that really have been it? I’d last seen Carter a couple days ago, and he had made no mention of things ending. Would he really end things just like that, without saying good-bye?

Maybe this was my fault. Even Helen—when I’d finally spilled just who I’d been spending most nights with—had warned me against the “sociopath billionaire.” And the few paintings I’d had time for had also contained traces of Carter—more blacks and blank space then they’d ever had before.

This time, my sad glance at my phone was rewarded with a text: Tonight—5:15 p.m., my office.

As I eagerly reread his text, a hand squeezed my shoulder.

“So, Donna, about that date…”

Putting down my phone, I shrugged Kyle’s hand off.

“Uh, yeah… I do have plans tonight, though.”

“Yeah, that’s fine, but that’s one night. It’s been two weeks.”

Getting up, I found Kyle blocking my escape.

“True, yes, but that was my mom. She needs me at home. I really have to go.”

And with that, I pushed past him and hurried out the door before he had a chance to say anything.

The whole drive to Carter’s office, my heart was pounding. Outside, the sky was a mottled blue-gray, as uncertain as I was. What were my feelings exactly for him?

As if to answer, a warmth flared between my legs.

I rolled my eyes. I knew that already; our sexual chemistry was undeniable. But if that was all it was, then why did it bother me so much every time he pushed me away, shut down, laughed off my attempts to truly connect?

As I pulled up to the familiar dark tower where RayGen headquarters were, it started to rain. Something told me I wasn’t going to like the answer to my last question.

This time the window-walled, airy lobby was empty. My footsteps echoed loudly off the marble. The elevator was as fast as last time, which was good. For some reason, my heart was still hammering a mile a minute, while the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. At the penthouse, the doors opened to reveal the catty secretary from last time.

Seeing me, her already scowling features sharpened into a sneer.

“I bet you think you’re real special, don’t you?”

I was frozen for a minute, her glare boring into me deeper. Then, I hurried on past, toward the rich wooden door that was already open a crack, as if expecting me.

One knock and his voice floated out: “Come in, Donna.”

He was sitting with his legs up on his desk, hands behind his head. Seeing me, he lowered them.

“Thanks for coming in on such short notice.”

I nodded. No way was I going to admit that I had missed him—certain parts of me more than others.

Spreading his hands on his desk, he swept a stack of papers to the side.

“I called you here for a very special reason.”

“Yes?”

Folding his hands on his desk, his dark, steely eyes penetrated my tight white T-shirt.

“Come over here.”

I did as I was told, stopping right in front of his chair. We stared at each other for a minute, Carter clearly enjoying my obvious discomfort. He raised his hand to showcase a black silk blindfold.

“This is for you.”

Taking it, I glanced at him for confirmation.

“Now?”

He nodded, and I tied it around my eyes. As darkness enveloped my sight, it occurred to me how much I trusted Carter to be doing this with him. Blind like this, I was helpless. He could do anything to me.

Next thing I knew, my arms were being grabbed and I was being steered into the cushioned, rotating chair he’d been sitting in before.

“Don’t move” were the next words I heard as my T-shirt was pulled over my arms and head.

An exhalation, then, “Hell, did I miss you.”

“I—” I began, but he cut me off.

“No talking this time.”

I nodded to show my understanding, but inside I was reeling. So I had been right after all: Carter didn’t give a damn about me or what I wanted. I was just a living fuck doll to him.

Still, there was no use resisting the current of pleasure that ran through me as he grabbed my breasts over my bra, his fingers lithely sliding under the cups. Now, it was my bra being tossed aside. Then…nothing.

There I was, sitting in his office chair, my top half fully exposed, breasts out, and Carter was nowhere to be found. Just as I opened my mouth to break his orders and call out for him, he struck my breasts.

“I said no talking.”

“Fuck you,” I blurted out immediately.

Grabbing me by the hair, Carter hissed in my ear, “You won’t get to if you keep this up.”

Letting me go, his fingers sliding through my hair, he continued. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

I did nothing but slump back into the chair, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that was building with his every touch. Then, I was lifted upright, carried a few steps, and put down on my feet.

“Don’t move,” Carter said.

There was the sound of drawers opening and closing, and then my arms were moved behind my back and tied together with something slick yet tight. Carter’s hands ran over my newly-bound arms, starting at my shoulders and going all the way down to my hands. Sticking his in between the material as if taunting me, he quickly continued to my ass, squeezing and rubbing the flesh and then smacking it.

Soft moans escaped my lips, and Carter chuckled.

“Sounds like you missed me, too.”

When I quieted myself, he only chuckled again. I took a step away, and Carter grabbed me and pulled me to his still fully clothed form. His lips brushing my shoulders, he traced a zigzag of kisses down my back, licking, sucking, and nibbling until I was trembling with his descent.

He reached my ass and deepened his sucking nibbles, surely leaving hickeys on the delicate skin. When my moans were no longer soft but loud, he stopped.

He drew back, and then there was the sound of fabric moving and the tinkle of a belt buckle. Then, the hard pole of Carter’s dick pressed between my ass cheeks.

“And now,” he said, digging himself in deeper, “I’m going to fuck you.”

The sound of him smacking my ass reverberated throughout the room.

“And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He grabbed my neck, brushed my lips with his. Then…nothing but the barely audible pad of footsteps. Once again, Carter had left to do…something.

He returned as a flick of hot fire on my ass. When I cried out in pain, Carter patted my head and wrapped his arms around me, shushing me.

“There, there, I know.”

The next time the hot fire dashed against my belly. Holding me as I struggled, Carter whispered into my neck, “The thing is, pain can be pleasure sometimes.”

With his next strike, he slipped his finger inside me. Now, I wasn’t moving because I couldn’t; I wasn’t moving because—as strange as it was—he was right.

My whole body was tingling with pleasure, pleasure that was only growing with his rhythmic body strikes and finger jerks. By the time he slipped his finger out of me, my whole body was swirling with want and I was practically panting. Carter patted my cheek with what must have been the whip.

“Hmm, you like this even more than I expected.”

He ran his fingers over my lower lip, pressed his to it, and then, pulling away, said, “Though, if you want me to stop, I can.”

Next thing I knew, he was gone. Reaching out around me unsteadily, I just found more nothingness.

His voice came from behind me. “Do you want me to stop?”

I stumbled in the direction I’d heard the voice come from and was stopped by my wrists being grabbed.

“No!” I groaned, and my cheek was slapped.

“No talking, remember? Nod for yes; shake your head for no.”

I did nothing and he continued. “So, do you want me to stop?”

I shook my head, and Carter released me and shoved himself inside me at the same time as he struck my ass.

Oh fuck, yes.

My whole body was exploding with pleasure, but Carter was just getting started. Holding my hip with one hand, he pumped into me with his dick, slow and soft to start, with leisurely flicks of the whip in time every so often. My moans and his satisfied grunts filled the room as he built his pace.

Already, I was almost at the edge, and Carter’s cock was harder than I’d ever felt it before. As he ramped up his pace, so too did his strikes get harder, more painful, the pain and pleasure doing a dance in my body that had me howling. Right as I was on the edge, about to come, Carter grabbed both my hands and growled into my face.

“Beg me for it,” he said.

My pussy pulsed frantically around his hard pillar.

The words slipped out of me. “Fuck. Oh fuck, please, Carter. Fuck me. Let me come—please.”

He ran the whip over my cheek.

“Tell me you love it. You love being fucked like this. Tell me you love me.”

As my pussy clasped impotently, more words spilled out of my mouth.

“Oh fuck, Carter,” I begged. “Please, just fuck me. I love how you fuck me. I love you. I—oh fuck, please just let me come. I love you.”

Running his hands down my body, Carter delivered me to my orgasm. With the most brutal thrusts and whip strikes yet, he plowed into me, in and out and back in again, slamming into me so hard that I almost fell over. But I didn’t care, because I was coming, and he was coming. Warm, hot perfection flowed into me, and my screams of ecstasy flowed out.

Then, we collapsed into a crumpled heap on the floor: me and my master, my savior, taunter, and deliverer.

At some point, as we lay there and his fingers danced absentmindedly over my bare skin, it occurred to me that, in the height of it all, Carter had ordered me to tell him that I loved him.

As if reading my thoughts, Carter’s voice came out coolly when he spoke. “It’s fun ordering you to do and say any ridiculous thing I think of.”

I said nothing, my heart tumbling out of my body and to the floor at my feet. His hand stroked my hair as his words caressed my cheek. “You’re getting good at this.”

He slipped off my blindfold, and I stared dully at the mahogany door—the same door I would be leaving through soon. But then, Carter stopped stroking my hair and turned my chin so I was facing him, so he could see my reaction to his next question.

“What would you say to extending our contract a bit—me helping you more if you help me more?”

I averted my gaze so he wouldn’t see the warring excitement and worry on my face.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked.

His hand picked up its stroking of my hair, his words just as easy as the strokes, a casual, ‘why not’ sort of proposition.

“Oh, a few more adjustments to my pipeline routes in return for another two weeks of spending time with you.”

I said nothing. We both knew what “spending time” actually entailed. What I didn’t know, however, was how I actually felt about all this, whether this was all a good idea. The hurt I felt at every one of his slights, every one of his sudden withdrawals, no matter how unintentional or expected, was only growing.

As he continued his stroking, he said, “Come on, Donna, how bad could it be?”

I sank back into him, into the warm enjoyment enveloping me. I knew what answer was going to come out of my lips, though what I really wanted to explain to him was that I knew none of this would be bad for my body; it was my heart I was worried about. I knew Carter’s reputation. Falling for him would be spiritual suicide. My best bet for saving myself would be to storm out of there right now without another word.

And yet, I couldn’t stop the inevitable word from slipping out of my lips.

“Yes.”

At this, Carter propelled himself onto me, his lips pressing into mine, his tongue dancing with mine with a passion I’d never felt from him before.

He released my lips so he could say, “Excellent, Donna. I knew you would. You see, I have a work trip planned. It’s going to be like nothing you’ve ever seen before—what’s the matter?”

Seeing him scanning my face, I made myself smile.

“Nothing. I’m just tired; that’s all.”

Suspicion flickered amid the black of Carter’s eyes. Then, he ran a hand through his blond hair and, extricating himself, rose.

“You’re right. It’s time to go. I’m late as it is.”

As I accepted his offered hand, I couldn’t resist an interested, “Oh?”

Carter tossed his answer over his shoulder on his way to the door. “I have company. You can let yourself out. I’ll text you details about the work trip later. Goodbye, Donna.”

The door shut behind him, and I stared miserably at its stupid, perfectly cut, too-tall frame. A few minutes ago I had been worried about leaving it for the last time. Now, I was sure that doing that would have been the right thing, that I had just lost my last chance of getting out of this confusing mess unscathed.