His Filthy Game
Page 5
I was an alpha. I was gonna own this female.
There was a moment of silence after I knocked on her door. Kitty didn’t call me in, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Turning the knob, the door swung open on its own, smooth and silent.
Oh shit.
My breath stopped, heart beating a frenzied rhythm. Because Kitty sat on the bed, wearing a tiny lingerie from her closet. Her phone was in her hand, but that beautiful face snapped to attention upon my arrival. I watched as her mouth dropped a little bit, the surprise evident in her eyes.
Oh god.
It was fucking amazing, a charge in the air.
Because she was more beautiful than I’d imagined.
Brown hair hung in slightly damp curls over her shoulders, a single drip of water teasing me as it ran from her chest and over one perky nipple. The lingerie she wore highlighted every curve and crevice, begging for my hands to touch them. But it was her eyes that kept me lock in place. Her innocence radiated through those chocolate brown eyes.
“Hello, Kitty Davis,” I rumbled, smiling, making sure my voice was cordial and polite. I wanted to stay calm and authoritative, reminding Kitty who her dominant was.
She chewed on her bottom lip and my eyes narrowed, zeroing in on small teeth grazing the delicate skin. Oh shit, oh shit. Those pearly whites beckoned, the perfect invitation to play.
But we weren’t there yet.
“Hi,” she responded shyly.
“How was your flight?” was my polite question.
Kitty smiled slightly before remembering how exposed she was. Awkwardly, the woman crossed her arms over her chest, trying to cover her nipples, which could be seen through the sheer fabric of the lingerie.
"My flight was good,” she finally spoke, trembling on the bedspread. Her arms moved reflexively, crossing over those huge breasts and making them bulge.
I tilted my head to the side, eyebrows raised. “Good.” But then my tone grew deep. “You’re my submissive, sweetheart. No need to be shy about your body around me.”
Kitty hesitated, unsure, and then slowly let her hands down and uncovered herself, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to rip the thin piece of lace off of her. I wanted to take in every detail of her exposed and naked form, right here, right now.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Cartwright,” she murmured, head down. “I won’t do it again.”
“Call me Master,” I immediately corrected. “You are to call me Master at all times, unless I say otherwise. You are mine. You are my submissive and I am your dominant.”
Kitty nodded, dropping her gaze to the floor.
“Look at me,” I growled and her head immediately snapped back to meet my gaze. “When I’m talking, I want you looking at me. And I have a lot of things to say, so you should listen carefully, Kitty.”
Nodding again, she fixed her gaze on me. “I’m sorry, Master.”
I smiled. She understood what it was to submit—this girl was a natural, I could tell already.
“You will always be available to me, sweetheart. Whenever I want you, you will be ready to do anything and everything at my beck and call.”
I watched as she shivered under the weight of my words and nodded in understanding, eyes wide.
“Up,” I rumbled, motioning for her to stand.
The silky fabric of her lingerie whispered over her skin as she shifted and stood. My eyes raked over her body, lingering on the softness of her breasts and the curve of her hips. There was too much space between us. I wanted to march over to her, rip the teddy off, and slam my already-hard cock inside that sweet pulsing cunt.
What would it feel like?
Heaven, for sure.
I barely kept control of myself, straining every muscle to keep from devouring right then and there. But it was too soon for sure. Shit, we just met in person two minutes ago.
So I stepped closer and reached out to touch her arm, unable to stop myself from feeling that soft skin. The woman tensed under my touch, poised like a hummingbird.
Yep, too soon. She was nervous as fuck. So I backed off.
“Have a seat.” I pointed to a chaise lounge that rested between her bed and the vanity. She listened and took spot on the plush seat, sitting primly instead of sprawled across it like a Botticelli nude.
I pulled the chair from the vanity over and sat in front of her, my eyes fixed on her face. She didn’t look down this time, but met my gaze straight on.
“I may call you to come to a room where I have a few things set up. Things both of us can enjoy,” were my low words. “Think of it as a playroom.”
Kitty’s eyes widened at the possibilities, and my smile grew wide.
“I also like to have my women shaved at all times,” came my low rasp. She bit her lip, but didn’t look away. “And clean,” I added as an afterthought. “Hygiene is important. I’ve provided all of the bathroom necessities that you might need. Ample soaps, shampoos, lotions, and even scented feminine spritzes. Use whatever you’d like, but I want you to smell good, Kitty. At all times. Everywhere. I have a particular fetish with eating pussy and I do it as much as I can.”
Kitty eyes widened and she gasped, blushing furiously. “I really don’t know anything about that since I’m a virgin.”
Aw shit. Her innocence was turning me on. I could feel my cock grow stiff again. Even the blush on her cheeks that she tried to cover with her hands had me wanting her more.
“Does it make you feel uncomfortable? Talking about sex?” was my smooth growl.
Kitty chewed on her bottom lip again and looked down for a split second, before meeting my gaze. “It’s just not a regular topic for me.”
“Sex is natural,” were my casual words, looking straight into her brown eyes. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of or feel uncomfortable about. I can teach you so many things. You just need to be a willing student with the ability to learn.”
She blinked a few times before nodding. “Okay.”
“If you’re uncomfortable, or if anything hurts too much and you’re not feeling any pleasure from it, then you can say red and I’ll stop. Red will be our safe word.” I waited for her to respond, but she merely nodded again.
For a moment, we stayed silent, eyes still locked together. And then the girl’s stomach rumbled. Her eyes widened, hands flying to her stomach in embarrassment. I couldn’t help but chuckle, walking over to the microwave in a few short strides.
“There’s mac n’ cheese here,” I said, reaching into the basket above the microwave. “Would you like me to heat one up for you?”
Those cheeks had gone from light pink to crimson, but she smiled and relaxed a little on the chaise. “Yes. Thank you. Mac n’ cheese is one of my favorites.”
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and poured some into the instant macaroni before heating it. For three minutes we just listened to the hum of the machine and watched the digital numbers count down. Silence reigned, but strangely, it wasn’t uncomfortable.
Finally, bing! Reaching into the microwave, the bowl came out piping hot. Taking care to handle the hot food gingerly, I passed it to Kitty.
“There’s plenty of food in here, Kitty. Why didn’t you eat when you arrived?” I watched as she took tiny bites of the food.
She looked up at me, eyes wide.
“Mara told me that I had to wait for you.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to starve yourself. I like my girls healthy, Kitty. Thick is what I prefer, and you’re on the thin side.”
She looked down at her body and then back to me. “You think I’m thin? I’ve always thought I was…well, chubby, and not thin.”
“You’re on the skinnier side of the scale to me,” I replied. The brunette glanced down at herself again before finally taking a real bite of noodles and not a child-sized bite.
Good. I like females who eat. The ones who survive on salad and air never pique my interest.
“I’d like to ask you a few personal question now, Kitty,” were my low words whil
e she ate.
She set the fork down and those teeth nipped at her bottom lip again. Shit, temptation made my cock spring up. I wanted my teeth biting at her plump lips, not hers.
“Okay,” she said and I resigned myself to waiting until later to find out what her lips would taste like.
“Do you have plans for the future? Ten years from now what do you hope to be doing?” I asked, clasping my hands together.
Kitty looked taken aback by the question. “I’ve never really thought about anything other than the grocery store I work at and becoming the manager of it someday.”
I nodded. It was a simple dream. Totally achievable.
“Anything else?”
Kitty shook her head. “No. People like me don’t often think of anything else other than surviving.”
The way she said ‘people like me’ with such a flat tone made me think she felt unworthy of having bigger dreams.
“Why not, sweetheart? Why not conquer the world? This is your opportunity. You’re in New York City now, and possibilities are everywhere.”
She gave me a small smile. “I know, but I grew up being passed from foster home to foster home. No one’s ever really taken an interest in me before, and the moment I turned eighteen, I was completely on my own. That’s what happens to you,” she said, making a small face. “It was more about surviving, then anything so fancy as chasing a dream.”
Shit. That was harsh.
“What happened to your parents?” I knew it was probably too personal, but she could refuse to answer my question if she wanted.
Kitty shrugged. “You know the story of a baby left on the steps of a firehouse? That’s literally me. From the womb to the orphanage, where I lived until age two,” she said. “And then one day, my mother came back and got me, saying she could support and take care of me now.”
“And did she?” I asked.
Kitty shook her head. “No. I was just another way for her to beg for more money from her family. She was a crack-head and just needed cash for her drug addiction. A neighbor finally reported her and I was put in foster care.”
I didn’t know what to say, and for a moment, regretted even asking. This was harsh. Real harsh, even by my depraved standards. What was this? Oliver Twist or something?
Kitty looked at me and smiled, but it held no joy. “Can I ask for a favor?”
My heart beat once, painfully. What a sad life she’d lived so far. And suddenly, I wanted to make it better for the beautiful brunette.
“Of course. What is it?”
“Don’t pity me,” she told me, that sweet voice becoming bold. “Any time I tell someone about my childhood that’s all I get: sad stares and pity. But I didn’t share it with you for your sympathy. It’s just a fact of my life and you were asking questions, so I answered.”
For a moment, I realized that the girl wasn’t as innocent as she looked.
Maybe she was innocent when it came to sex, but by no means was this some spoiled princess. Kitty had already surmounted untold hardships, deserving the highest respect.
I nodded. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart. And I don’t feel sorry for you, so it’s not a problem.”
“Everyone pitied me, you know,” the girl murmured quietly, looking at her food. “The staff at the orphanage and the couples who took me in through foster care. They all felt so sorry for what my mother did to me and I always wondered why. They weren’t the ones who did it, after all.” She must’ve seen my expression; the girl flashed me a smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to—”
I shook my head. “I’m glad you shared that with me. It was real personal, and must have been tough to speak about with a stranger.”
Kitty nodded, silent, and I watched her as she finished her meal.
But the thing is, this girl had me hooked. Most women I meet are divas who expect everything to be handed to them. So Kitty was a huge surprise. A nice one, actually, a girl worth knowing.
So I decided to ask.
“When you turned eighteen, what happened?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking and wanting to know more about her. How did she manage after foster care? Weren’t kids usually left on their own once they aged out?
“I worked a lot of jobs before becoming a cashier at my local grocery store,” she answered slowly. “The last foster family who took me in gave me money and I used that to pay for my first month’s rent. It got me out of the door and on my feet, but I worked hard to pay the other bills that came after that first month.”
One black brow went up.
“That’s admirable. People your age don’t seem to want to work hard,” I commented.
She shrugged ruefully. “I guess you’re right. I don’t know many people my age that work full-time at the store the way I do. But they have resources, and I don’t.”
Kitty finished her mac n’ cheese and set the plastic bowl next to her on the chaise. The woman glanced around the room, clearly unsure what would happen next, before settling her gaze on me. “What now?” came that soft voice.
“Now,” I said, leaning forward in my chair and catching the scent of the floral soap she’d used during her bath or shower, “I’m going to change. You’ll leave this room after thirty minutes and go to the playroom. Turn left out of your room and it’s three doors down the hall. I want you to kneel by the door and wait for me there. We’ll be getting right to it.”
Kitty’s eyes widened, but she managed to nod. “Okay, Master.”
I left her room with warring emotions. Kitty was beautiful and young and so pure. Her innocence turned me on. I wanted her. But she was also a person scarred by the world and she deserved more than that. She was my submissive to groom and mold, but she was also a sensitive girl who was robbed by the world of so much. Oddly, I had the urge to make things better for her.
What the hell?
Why?
Had her sob story gotten to me?
Usually I’m an asshole. I didn’t care what you were going through. It didn’t matter if your mother and father were dying of cancer. All I cared about was results.
But this girl has turned things on their head. Because her bravery and determination got to me. You didn’t see that in teen girls, much less adult women. Most folks were complainers who wanted me to take the reins and make things better.
But Kitty was different. I saw the pain flash in those big brown eyes, but I also saw strength in her narrow shoulders and the way she took a deep breath, determined to make a place for herself in this harsh world.
Shit, what’s wrong with me? I needed to get a grip.
Because Kitty was my plaything … and she didn’t mean anything more.
Chapter Seven
Kitty
When Mr. Cartwright left, I let out a long exhale. Meeting him had been different than expected. For one, I couldn’t tell how old he was. The man could be anywhere from thirty-five to fifty. On the one hand, he was in top shape, massive and imposing, without a strand of gray in that hair, making me think he was young. But on the other, the man was commanding with piercing blue eyes and a low growl that sent shivers through my spine. Only someone old would have that right? So it was hard to tell for sure.
And yet Mr. Cartwright wasn’t callous or closed off like Shelly had said some Doms could be. The man was brusque, but there was also a softness hidden in him.
I saw it when telling him about my past. There was kindness that had made a fleeting appearance when he heard my story. The hard mask he wore peeled away for a moment, letting me see that he wasn’t simply just a heartless, ruthless user.
I was afraid that all dominants, considering how sadistic some could be, didn’t have a soul, but I saw it in Mr. Cartwright, even for just a brief instance.
Biting my lip, I started to wash the macaroni bowl and fork in the sink in my bathroom as my hands shook with nerves. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten. Nausea crept into my stomach.
Because Mr. Cartwright said we’d ‘be getting right to it.’ I was going
to lose my virginity in less than an hour. Did girls prepare themselves for this in some way? None of the foster women that I’d lived with ever talked about about sex or puberty or anything like that. The birds and bees had been left to chance.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes left. Inhaling deeply, my feet paced the room a little bit more, trying their best to ease my nerves. Everything was beautiful in my room. Soft, light tones for the fabrics and walls. A white vanity and matching wardrobe sat next to each other. All sorts of perfumes and make up decorated the vanity. My reflection stared back at me from the huge mirror. Should I put on some make up? No. Anxiety made my hands too unsteady to even try applying cosmetics.
I walked over to the cream-colored chaise where Mr. Cartwright had questioned me. The lounger faced a window that let in the sunlight and highlighted a round dining table with two chairs. On top of the small table sat a vase of flowers. The scent of roses hung in the air, calming my nerves a little with their sweet scent. Had he picked these out for me?
Couldn’t be. He had employees for this kind of stuff, and really, I was just another employee.
My gaze drifted to the enormous bed covered in lilac bedding and the matching vase of roses that sat next to it. A smile crept over my face.
Until I noticed the small alarm clock also sitting on the nightstand.
My thirty minutes was up!
My smile fell away. I couldn’t help feeling a little afraid. What was going to happen in his ‘playroom?’
Three doors down the hall where Mr. Cartwright has said, was a red door. It stood out against the stark white of the hallway. Was he here already? There was nothing showing me if he was or not. Quickly, I got down on my knees and assumed the position that Mr. Cartwright had instructed, head down, hands behind my back. I didn’t want to mess up his first command and not be ready if he showed up.
Because Shelly had given me a few tips before wishing me luck on my first venture into the world of BDSM while also assuring me that it would be an experience I’d never forget—that I’d never want to forget.