by Dani René
I left home at sixteen. After my father died, my mother stole everything from me. I was cast out like I wasn’t even her child. It hurt, but she’d never been loving toward me. So, I ran with nothing. When I bumped into Carrick at a club, he took one look at me and told me I was perfect. I didn’t know what he meant, but he was good to me. Fed me. Clothed me. And I begged him for more. In my teenage mind, I loved him. I gave him my body, my virginity. He took it the way I begged for it, hard and rough.
And when he spanked me, I pleaded for more. Over time, he taught me the beautifully erotic world he lived in. Leather, lace, chains, and wood. Whips and chains had never been so alluring.
The phone buzzes in my hand and I almost drop it. It’s Savannah. Swiping my thumb over the screen, I smile while answering. “Hey Bunny,” I giggle, using the nickname Mason gave her.
“Yeah, laugh it up, sweet girl,” she responds and I can hear the smile in her voice. “I wanted to know if you’d want to have a girl’s night tomorrow? My friend from school is in town and she’s new to Chicago.”
“Sounds like fun, I don’t think Rick has me on to work tomorrow anyway.”
“I’ll handle Carrick, you just need to worry about a sexy ass dress,” she says with confidence. I met her when I first walked into Seven Sins three years ago. It was the first time Rick allowed me into the club. Savannah is Mason’s submissive. And Mason is a sex god if ever I saw one. He is Carrick’s partner and the two of them have broken more hearts than I can count.
“You know I’m always up for spending time with you, Sav. What’s your friend’s name?” I ask while filling my mug with hot coffee, the rich, chocolatey scent taunting my taste buds.
“Peyton, she’s gorgeous, I’m tempted to set her up with Rick,” she confesses in a whisper. I never thought of Carrick being with anyone. He’s too much of a playboy. Even after all these years, I still feel a twinge of regret that he didn’t want me. Granted, he’s amazing in bed, but for a long time I thought I was in love with him.
Nodding to myself, I realize Sav is waiting for my input. “Yeah right. You know that man can’t stick to one woman. He’s a glutton for them,” I respond, sipping the dark liquid.
“This is true,” she sighs in frustration. If there was death by sin, Carrick would be killed for gluttony. He devours women like a predator eating its prey. And the terrible thing is, they want it. “Okay, so tomorrow, seven?” Savannah’s soft voice comes from the other end of the line.
“Perfect, I’ll go shopping for a new dress,” I tell her excitedly. She laughs, knowing that when I shop, I don’t stop until I’m passed out under all the bags.
“I can’t wait to see that gorgeous body hugged in a tight spandex.” She giggles at that, and I can’t help shaking my head. There’s one thing about Savannah; she loves women as much as Carrick does, and Mason loves to share her with other submissives. I wonder how having an open relationship like that can work. Perhaps my jealousy holds me back from experiencing that, but deep down, if a man wants me, I have to be the only one he has. No sharing. It’s too humiliating to me watching my man with someone else. Now, all I need to do is find said man.
“Okay, Bunny, go please your man, I need to get ready for the day,” I tell her, padding back to the bedroom.
“Later, sweet girl,” she says, hanging up.
I make my way straight to the closet to find something presentable to wear tonight. I’m working for a few hours, so I’ll need something elegant. There are dresses overflowing my closet all courtesy of Carrick. My boss for all intents and purposes.
One day, when he does finally find a girl, she’ll be one lucky submissive. He’s got a big heart, big wallet, and a huge cock. Giggling, I shake my head and pull out the long silver gown. My mind flits back to the man from last night. As much as I try pushing him from my mind, I wonder if he’ll be there tonight. And as I get my clothes ready, I know I’m going to dress for him.
Nate
The early morning sunlight streams through the windows of my office. My mind isn’t here, it’s still in that room with her. I’m not supposed to be thinking about her. It’s done. I’m off the hook and I can move on, but I don’t want to. When I left her last night, I told Carrick to look after her. I’d covered her in a blanket, wrapping her up after she’d fallen asleep.
Her body, her curves, the way her lips felt when I pressed a kiss to her mouth before I walked out without looking back. My chest aches, it fucking hurts, and even in the agony, I can’t help smiling when I think about her. I’m turning into a fucking pussy.
My mind races with ideas, how I can get one more night. Just one. It wouldn’t hurt. Would it? There wasn’t any stipulation in the agreement that said I couldn’t have a second taste. I’d finished what I set out to do. And if my benefactor never finds out, then it wouldn’t hurt.
When I left Seven Sins after our scene, I walked out already needing to go back in and take her again, which isn’t like me. I’m a one night, one scene man. I don’t return to the same submissives. I’ve made the mistake before, when I got attached to a particular slave for two long years. I kept going back, requesting her. I became addicted. She became needy and greedy for my time. Wanted something I could never offer her. Not in the world I live. Love.
I’ve never been a one-woman man. They hate me for it, but that’s not my problem. I’m too tempted by what I need. Too fucking twisted up in my own dark to drag Eva into it, but one more scene wouldn’t make a difference. She’ll be like every other slave I’ve played with. Fucking her out of my mind is one way of doing it, and if I degrade her enough, perhaps she’ll hate me and it will be easier to walk away.
But last night was something else. Even as I take in the city below me, she’s the only thing that’s on my mind. All morning I’ve been at war with myself, convincing myself that it was a one off, but I’m a greedy man. Over the years my obsession, my dependence isn’t far. My personality gives way to addiction easily. And deep down, I can’t shake the need to know her. This is all going to blow up in my face, I know it, but I want her again.
With my mind made up that one more night will be what I need to get her out of my system, I pick up my phone, and hit dial on Carrick’s number. We’ve known each other for a long time. I was the one who helped him when he needed the finance for the club, and when I made the move to Chicago to work with Asher, he was my point of call for help with my gambling addiction. Carrick’s been a foundation, a friend, and I know he’s someone I can trust with my life.
Four rings, and I’m about to hang up when I hear the familiar click. “Nathan, to what do I owe this pleasure?” The sly bastard answers in his thick English accent heavy with a smirk in his tone. Even though he’s lived in America for almost ten years, he’s never lost that lilt to his voice. Perhaps that’s why women fall over their Louboutin’s to get into his bed.
“Give me her number, Rick,” I order, not bothering with greeting him, but all I receive is a chuckle. The man is an asshole when he wants to be, and he’s fucking good at it. I’ve become accustom to his personality and he to mine. That’s why our friendship works. It’s honest and brutal, just the way I like everything in my life.
“Why would I do a thing like that, Nate?”
“I want her. One more night.” He doesn’t respond, then I feel the vibration of my phone against my ear. When I pull it away, I notice a message from him.
“One night. If you hurt her…” He doesn’t finish his sentence but I know what he wants to say. It’s in his tone. If I hurt her, he’ll kill me. Somehow, I don’t doubt that. I’ve never asked about his background or why he left London, I don’t want to know. But I know that it must have been something dangerous, there’s just an air about Carrick Anderson that screams danger.
“Thank you, Rick. I owe you,” I say, hanging up before he can respond with how much I probably do. When I open his message, I save her number on my phone. Sweet Slut. Even as I type the name I can still taste her sweetness on my tongue
, my lips. Opening the message app, I tap out an order without giving her my name. That she’ll learn when I see her again. For now, the mystery is more exciting. Anticipation. The crux of our world. I hit send and wait.
Me: Sweet Slut, I’d like to take you for dinner, for dessert I’ll show you my dungeon. This isn’t a request. It’s an order.
I don’t wait long for a response, and what I get in return makes me smile. I’m grinning like a fool.
Sweet Slut: Yes, Sir.
Two words and this woman owns me more than I can ever imagine owning her. I never thought I’d see the day that I’d even consider wanting to take a woman again and again, but with Eva, I feel that may very well happen. I’m playing with fire, I’m about to get burned, but I can’t stop myself from diving into the flames.
I knew she wouldn’t deny me. She can’t. After the way she looked at me last night, I saw it flicker in her eyes. Need. That same dark desire that sets my soul alight danced in her blue orbs.
Me: Good girl. I want to watch you get dressed. Send me your address. I’ll be there at five thirty.
Once her response comes through, I commit it to memory. Then, I turn to my computer in an attempt to focus on work. I have two new clients I need to get feedback to in the next few days. I pull up the documents detailing Mr. Grendall’s finances. He’s hoping to apply for finance which will see him setting out on a new business venture with his partner. The concern is his bank balance. This is where I step in. When he fired his previous accountant and contacted me, I agreed to work with him on this.
I need to focus. Going through all his financial transactions for the past five years. My eyes roam the figures on screen, but the only figure that’s on my mind is the one of the woman who’s caught my attention.
The day at the office didn’t go as planned.
Yes, I attended meetings.
Yes, I impressed clients, but that’s not where I want to be.
Every inch of my body aches to be inside Eva. Running my fingers through my unruly dark brown hair, I glance in the rear-view mirror of my Mercedes, and notice my eyes are swirling with lust, already hungry for her.
All day I planned, plotted, and I’ve figured out how to get her out of my system. We’ll play a scene, one where she’ll never be able to look at me with respect again. But before I do that, I’ll take her to dinner. One date where I’ll challenge her, tease her, and enjoy her. I’ll make sure she knows who I am and make certain she won’t forget me because I know without a doubt I’ll never forget her. Once I walk away, it will be goodbye.
When I reach the door of her apartment at exactly five-thirty, I knock once and wait. I hear a shuffle from the other side and then the click of the lock. A soft whoosh sounds as she opens the door and I’m met with those blue piercing eyes.
“Hello.” Her voice is timid, and a soft blush paints her cheeks a rosy hue, cherries and innocence. A deadly combination of submissive sensuality and alluring beauty.
“Sweet slut,” I murmur. I reach for her hand, tugging her close to me. I lean in and my lips find her cheek. I plant a tender kiss on the smooth skin of her cheek, which only serves to entice me more. Her body visibly shudders and she presses herself closer to me. Her heat warms me like I’m standing in front of a fire. “Do you like me calling you that?” I question, glancing down at her and meeting those blue pools. Her breath fans over my face as she peeks up at me under dark lashes, almost mocha in color. Against her tanned skin, she looks like a vision sent from heaven to drag me out of hell, only, I know there’s no help for me.
“Perhaps,” she quips. It’s playful, bratty, and it makes my palm itch to spank her ass. A memory slams into me, one from last night when I spanked her. Those smooth fleshy globes of silky skin marked red with my hand print.
“Don’t test me, sweetheart,” I warn, lowering my voice. As she steps aside, allowing me into her personal space, I take in my fill of the apartment she calls home. “Did Carrick tell you to allow me in?”
“He may have mentioned that you’re a friend and not a serial killer.” She smiles, glancing at me with amusement.
“I may not be a serial killer, but I can be dangerous.”
“Only to my body,” she responds with a light tone, as if she’s holding back excitement, perhaps a laugh. I follow her through the living room, finding that it’s spacious. I wonder how she can afford a place like this. This block of apartments isn’t cheap. Then it dawns on me. There’s no way she’s paying for this.
She leads me down a long hallway, lit only by the small downlights in the ceiling. A yellow glow that’s reminiscent to candlelight. When we reach her bedroom, I can’t help my surprise to find it neat and tidy. Most young women can be messy, unless she’s tidied it up knowing I’ll be entering her sacred space. There’s a queen-size bed with dark blue sheets, almost midnight in color, reminding me of the inky sky. Her shoes are set out at the foot end, silver sandals with a slight heel.
A dressing table sits near the window and opposite to that a closet is built into the wall with mirrored doors. How I’d love to fuck her while watching her face in those. A sight to behold. She strolls over to a hanger, which is perched on the hook beside the dressing table, approaching a long silver elegant dress. I can’t wait to see her in it.
“I’ve set a chair out for you. I’m going to get dressed now and you mentioned you wanted to watch?” she says, not looking at me, but her confidence shines through. It’s sexy, drawing me into her orbit like a moth to a flame. My gaze is glued to her hips as she sways them when she walks.
“Thank you, Sweet Slut. You are perfection in a tight little body,” I remark, sitting back in the faux leather armchair which is situated beside the door. When she turns to face me, my chest tightens. I shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t part of the agreement and as much I’m breaking the rules, I can’t stop myself. She slowly slips off the dressing gown, and when it pools to the floor, every sense of right and wrong leaves my mind. Her lingerie—a black corset, with a gold bow between her ample cleavage and a thong which matches with a bow on either hip—leave my mouth dry. Yellow, gold, the color of greed. One of the seven deadly sins. Perhaps this siren was made for me after all.
She plucks the silver silk dress off the hanger and allows it to fall over her body. The material hugs every one of her perfect curves. It drapes over her like it was painted on. She’s covered in the floor-length silver dress. I’m speechless.
“How do I look, Sir?” Her words are sultry, meant to seduce, and they do.
Never have I seen a more exquisite woman, and I tell her so. “Exquisite.”
She strolls to me after she slips on the pair of sparkly sandals. She’d be almost at my height in those heels, but she’ll still have to glance up at me with those blue eyes. When I rise to take her in, my hands find purchase on her hips.
Meeting her gaze, I’m dragged into the arctic blue that greets me with shimmering desire, excitement, and happiness. My lips tingle with readiness to devour her. For a moment, I wonder if I should tell her how we met, or rather why we met. But today is the first and only time I’ll have her again, so I decide not to. I make the choice to lie, just for a few hours more. What will it hurt? Even though I’ve learned first-hand that secrets are evil, they break down lives and relationships, but when I look at her now, I realize I can’t say a word because to see her hurt would gut me. That thought scares the shit out of me.
“I’m nervous for tonight,” she confesses shyly. In all her confidence, there’s still a little girl hiding in there. A woman needing a Dominant to care for her. To take her places she’s never even dreamt of. And in that moment, I don’t see the mask she puts on for everyone else, I see her. The soul that’s shattered, broken, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I realize I want to be that for her. The man that will show her who she really is. Give her everything she needs and yearns for. Can I do this? The last time I took a chance with someone it ended badly. Worse than I ever imagined. But something tells me Ev
a is different.
A fleeting moment passes between us. My mind clicks into place when her lips purse, then turn into a small shy smile. My fingers dig into the soft flesh of her body, causing a soft moan to fall from her sweet lips. Yes. I can do this. God help me, I need to do this.
As long as she never finds out what I did, we can try. It’s been a long while since I owned a slave. My own past is scattered with skeletons, but I offer her a reassuring smile. “Don’t be nervous. I’m right beside you. You’ll love my dungeon.” I wink, offering her my arm.
Eva
His confidence oozes from him, along with the spicy scent of his cologne, which lingers once he leaves the room. It’s like a warm cloud of safety when I inhale deeply; I revel in it. I’ve only ever felt like this with Carrick. As much as I’d like to one day be owned, I’ve been rather shy to be with men. Something about this man who I still don’t know, makes me feel like I can safely walk on the edge, and he’ll catch me if I fall.
“What’s your name, Sir?” I ask, a smile lifting my lips when his eyes twinkle with mischief.
“Nathan, and as much as I love it when you call me Sir, tonight you’re welcome to call me Nate,” he informs me. His voice is raspy, thick and decadent, and I recall last night, my thoughts drifting to the finest brandy.
And almost as if he knows that I can’t resist his magnetic pull, he offers me a smirk that has my panties disintegrating the moment he gifts it to me, like a present at Christmas, but this is more priceless than a wrapped box with a red bow.
We make our way into the living room and I grab the purse which has my phone and keys. We move silently through the apartment, comfortable in each other’s company, even though we know nothing about the other’s personal life. Once I’ve locked the door, we take the elevator down to the parking garage.
