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  It turns out though, Sam was right. As soon as I stepped foot in the door, a tall saleswoman is by my side, calling me by name. She is older than Julian, her short straight hair entirely gray, and brittle with age, but her face is bright and clear, and she directs me to the dress section.

  “I believe he said you like black?” She asks, pulling me several selections suspiciously not bothering to ask my size first.

  The simple dress that I finally settle on is black, just like he predicted it’d be. Despite my best efforts, the woman wouldn’t let me see the price tag of the Versace silk, but I imagine it was a lot. On top of the strapless black mesh teddy, the new matte Louboutin’s, and the white pearl choker, I don’t want to even imagine what the bill was.

  The sales lady left to take care of it on her own, presumably having Julian’s card on file, and Sam is strangely nowhere to be found. I am left to my own devices, standing in the empty dressing room, smoothing my hands over the cool silk fabric of my dress, my mind lost. A low short whistle pulls me from my thoughts, followed by a familiar voice.

  “I was going to take you to dinner, but seeing you in that outfit… I don’t know that I can survive a whole meal.”

  I meet his dark emerald eyes in the mirror, noticing the now-shut door of the private dressing room. He is leaning against the wall, hands in his pants pockets, looking like pure sin as he devours me with his gaze, licking his devilish lips.

  “I’m not all that hungry anyway.” I say softly, entranced by the sight of him. He pushes off from the wall, approaching me from behind. I brace for the electricity of his touch, yet somehow, it is a million times more shocking than I could possibly prepare for. It is soft, almost mundane, as his fingertips land on my hips, grazing at my figure through the cold fabric, gliding upwards feather-light, until they reach my waist. He wraps one strong arm around me, encircling my waist and pulling me into him, my back crashing into the muscled expanse of his chest. His other hand drifts upwards, tracing my collarbone as he watches us in the mirror.

  “You’re exquisite.” Julian purrs against my neck as he plants soft kisses between each word. I sigh at the contact, shocked to realize how much I missed him, after only being away for a few hours.

  “I missed you.” The brutal honesty in my voice surprises me as the small admission escapes my lips despite my brain. Julian stills for one short sweet moment of satisfaction, raising his eyes to mine in the mirror, a tug in his lips.

  “I’ve missed you too, princess.” He pulls me impossibly tighter, “now, about that writing…”

  Chapter 10

  Julian

  “Good girl. Shh, don't make a sound.” I remind Ryan, catching her doe eyes in the mirror. They are hazed with equal parts lust and desperation. We’ve been in this dressing room far longer than what is considered decent, and I don’t intend to leave until I hear the sweet sound of her moaning my name.

  I carefully hung her new dress behind us, strategically leaving her teddy in place so I could rub her through its thin fabric, a new brand of torture I thought up in one of my dull business meetings today.

  “Sir,” she breathes the plea, the entirety of her weight held by the arm I have wrapped securely around her waist, pulling her back against me.

  “Yes princess?” I goad her, growing impossibly harder at the desperate furrow of her arched brow. “What do you want, beautiful?”

  Ryan chews on her bottom lip, struggling with the new territory; for someone whose craft is words, she sure has trouble forming sentences when she’s under pressure.

  I chuckle into the nape of her neck, swiping my fingers along her slit lazily, reveling in the almost undetectable shake of her thighs. Snaking my middle finger under the mesh hem, I rub against her bare skin. She is slick and ready for me, just like I knew she would be the moment I walked into the dressing room.

  “Is this what you want?” I prompt her, willing her to use her words as I inch my finger inside her, up to the first knuckle.

  “Yes, sir.” She moans at me, the words coming out in almost a question, her innocent gaze fixated on the sight of my hand, disappearing between her thighs.

  “Ryan, look at me.”

  She obeys my order immediately, sending shockwaves through my body, directly to my cock. God damn. I planned to tease her all night, to tease her for hours until she was so needy and desperate she was begging me to fuck her sweet little pussy. But now, watching her watch me finger her, my resolve is weakening.

  “Tell me what you want. Now.” I move my finger inside her, back and forth, but refuse to delve any deeper, deliberately avoiding her G spot. She swallows hard, her eyes boring into mine.

  “I want you. Inside me.”

  “I am inside of you. Be more specific.”

  Watching her mind struggle and splinter at the prospect of such dirty words leaving her pure little mouth is absolutely enrapturing. My mouth waters at the delicious sight. I can feel her heart pounding beneath my hold across her torso, a combination of lust and frustration.

  “It’s okay princess,” I whisper in her ear, holding her gaze in our reflection, “you only have to say it once. You can whisper it – no one will hear but me.”

  “I want you to fuck me, sir.” I smile deviously against the skin at the juncture of her neck, my cock twitching at her request.

  Pulling the crotch of her teddy fully to the side, I reposition us slightly, pressing on the small of her back and forcing her to arch against me as I unzip my pants, freeing myself from the painful constraints.

  “Oh god,” a struggle moan escapes her lips as I run the thick head of my cock against her slit, coating myself in her juices. She’s so fucking warm, and tight. Her pussy is gripping me, begging to pull me in and keep me forever. It is taking everything in me not to give in.

  “Ryan, baby?” I catch her attention, “you’re in for a long night.”

  I pound into her, hard, marveling at the tight, hot sensation of her around me. Before she has a chance to scream out, I cover her mouth with my free hand, muffling her moans. Her pussy clenches around me, adjusting to the intrusion, torturing me. I silently remind myself not to finish.

  “Who do you belong to?” I thrust into her once more.

  “You, sir. Only you.”

  “And is this what you wanted?” Another thrust.

  “Yes. Dear God, yes.” Ryan moans her response, her eyes drifting shut as her perfect fuck-me lips form the most bewitching “O” shape I’ve ever fucking seen.

  “Are you sure?” I ask her, a smirk already forming on my lips.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hmm... Okay.” With that, I pull out of her, tucking my almost-unbearably hard cock back into my slacks, adjusting her teddy as she acclimates to the shock.

  “No, sir! Why’d you stop? What are you doing?”

  I chuckle at her, resisting the urge to throw her on the floor and finish the job.

  “Next time, be more specific.”

  Rage and frustration boil in her doe eyes as she understands the particularly heinous form of punishment I just subjected her to. I’ll admit, that was mean. But I’ll make up for it tonight – more than once.

  “Are you hungry now?” I chuckle at Ryan, earning a small disapproving smile from her as she steps back into her dress.

  “That sales woman is going to know what we were doing—Oh god! Sam!” She gasps at the realization, her face turning bright red in less than a second.

  “Oh? And what is it that we were doing?” I goad her again, smirking as her mouth drifts open and closed with her struggle to answer. I decide to give her this one, moving on with the conversation.

  “Yes, darling. She is.” Kissing her on the nose, I continue, “why do you think she knew what type of lingerie to put you in? I requested it.”

  Ryan’s eyes widen a moment at the realization before she nods slightly, at herself.

  “And don’t worry about Sam, I sent him home.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame, I wanted to t
hank him for walking me around today.”

  I grin at her, assuring her that she’ll see him again before we leave. When we finally leave the dressing room, the woman does pass us a knowing glance, a ghost of an amused smile on her thin lips. I imagine things like this happen a lot, given the extraordinarily private manner of their dressing rooms.

  Ryan and I leave the department store, passing my car on the street in favor of walking to the restaurant. The day’s earlier storm broke some time while we were occupied, leaving a cool and comfortable night in its wake. Slipping my scarf from my shoulders, I wrap it around Ryan’s neck as she matches my strides, tucking the cashmere into the collar of her thick wool coat.

  “Thank you.” She mutters, her lips stiff from chill as she clings to me. Kissing her forehead, I lead her up the laid stone pathway to the entrance of tonight’s dinner venue. The tiny Italian restaurant is one of London’s best kept secrets, and one of my favorite places in the entire city. Fire-warmed air greets us as we pass through the door, smoky and inviting. The host nods at me with recognition as I guide Ryan to a corner booth in the back of the restaurant. It is secluded enough the no other table will hear our conversation, yet public enough to add some stakes to my planned dinner games. Ryan smiles at me sweetly as she takes her seat, completely unaware of the devious things I have in store for her.

  Chapter 11

  Ryan

  The restaurant Julian chose is warm and smells deliciously smoky. He leads us in like he’s been here a million times before, with a small nod to the hostess and a memorized path to the most secluded booth. We slide into the corner seat next to each other, so close our thighs brush under the soft linen tablecloth. A tall skinny waiter comes to take our drink order almost immediately, settling thick paper menus on the table. Julian interrupts him, speaking in perfect Italian.

  “Grazie. Avremo entrambi i ravioli di aragosta, per favore. E una bottiglia di Dom Perignon.” The romantic language sounds something like sex rolling from his tongue. I don’t speak Italian, but I do recognize the name of the champagne. The same one I ordered a case of, the day we went suit shopping. The man nods at Julian before scampering away to retrieve our beverages.

  “What did you order?” I ask him bemused.

  “Will you ever let me surprise you?” He smirks at me, and I raise my hands defensively.

  “Hey! I’d say you’ve surprised me a lot today. Wouldn’t you?”

  “I suppose that's fair,” he concedes, “tell me about your day.”

  I lick my lips, admiring the sweet change in his normally mischievous demeanor. As I open my mouth to begin the monologue I’ve been waiting to give him all day, I realize why he seems so strangely sweet. It’s a ploy.

  Julian’s hand rests on my thigh – on the side with the two-foot slit in the fabric of my dress – brushing at my bare skin with his soft thumbs. His smile widens, prompting me to continue.

  “It was incredible, Julian. Thank you. I—what are you doing?” As I speak, his fingers inch upwards, brushing at my sensitive skin completely undetectable under the table. Before he has a chance to answer my innocent question, the waiter returns with our champagne. As the skittish looking man fills our flutes Julian drifts his hand higher, reaching a devious finger out to brush against my clit, causing me to jump in my seat.

  “Is everything okay?” He asks in a mock sweet tone, feigning concern. The boy with the champagne watches me intently.

  “Yes, um… Sorry, it was just a bit of a chill.” My voice trails off as he continues his menstruations, running an unforgiving finger over my clit, encircling the knot of currently hypersensitive nerve endings.

  “Julian what are you doing?” I whisper to him as the boy walks away, leaving the bottle in ice beside our booth.

  “Take a sip of your champagne.” He orders me.

  I oblige, allowing the cool liquid to wash over my tongue, igniting it with carbonation and lowered inhibitions. He was right, Dom really is good.

  “You see princess, I promised myself I’d find some evil way to incorporate that champagne into your punishment one day.” I meet his gaze; he’s been thinking about this since then?

  “Oh yes,” he reads my thoughts, “I’ve been contemplating all the different forms of discipline, and sensual abuse I’d inflict upon you for that dirty little prank. Now it’s time to pay the piper.”

  Something inside me shifts and coils at the dark and devilish tone of his voice; it is positively enrapturing. Terrifying, definitely. But I can’t deny that my mouth is watering at the thought. He holds my gaze, removing his hand from my core to reach into the ice bucket, gripping one long thick sliver. Running the freezing cube across my lower lip, Julian mutters to me.

  “I thought about tying you up and fucking you with the bottle,” I shutter at the thought, eyeing the absurdly thick bottle in fear. “Or forcing you into a servant’s outfit, making you serve me a glass with a vibrator stuffed up your pretty cunt, just to I could paddle you for every drop you spilled.”

  My chest heaves with each word, any responses I might have had caught somewhere in my throat. Julian lifts the ice from my lips, carrying on with his more devious plan.

  “I’m still going to do those things, once we’re home baby. I’m going to punish you 50 times over for that little infraction, once for each bottle in the case. Each time will push you more than the last, and by the end, you’re going to look forward to the punishments.” He assures me, resting the hand with the ice suspiciously on my upper thigh. “Tonight is your first punishment, darling. I’m going to torture you until you can’t take it anymore, freezing your perfect pussy with this ice,” he slides the weapon higher and higher, nearing my clit, “and then I’m going to make you come in front of our shy little waiter over there.”

  I gasp, gripping his forearm as he slips the ice inside me unexpectedly. The dreadfully cold sensation sends shockwaves through my body, and I tighten my grip on him, clenching my jaw shut. It is all that I can do not to cry out.

  Julian chuckles at me, his grin growing wider and wider as he watches me convulse. Slipping a finger inside me, he moves the ice around, laughing darkly as I writhe with the sensation.

  “Oh, sir. Please.”

  “Please what?”

  I ponder the question, please what? Please fuck me right here in this crowded restaurant? Please stop torturing me? Please keep torturing me?

  “Please can we go home? Forget the fucking food.”

  Julian ticks at me, smirking. “Oh but princess, I thought you were hungry.”

  The fake innocence that floods his voice as he agonizes me beneath the table is almost enough to shatter me.

  “Oh I am.” I breathe out the response, whimpering as Julian adds a second ice cube.

  “Please.” I beg him.

  “No. Be a good girl, take your punishment.”

  I whine softly, nodding. My clit throbs with impossible arousal, begging for his attention, but I remain silent, composed.

  “Mmm. Good job. Keep it up and I’ll reward you.”

  “Yes, sir.” I mewl.

  To my horror, the waiter approaches our table, carrying a tray of food.

  “Here you are sir, madam.” Placing our plates in front of us, he straightens gripping a cheese grater.

  “Would either of you like any Parmesan?”

  Julian turns his attention to me, slipping two fingers inside me unexpectedly, goading me.

  “Ryan?” I understand his meaning. This is part of the punishment.

  “Yes,” I struggle to bite out the word in anything other than a moan, “please.”

  The last part could have been directed at either one of them. As the lanky man leans over me to grate a generous serving onto my meal, Julian ups the stakes, slipping a third finger inside of me.

  “Oh—uh, that's enough. Thank you.” I yelp as he swipes across my G-Spot.

  “None for me, thank you.” Julian smiles, cool as ever, watching the waiter retreat with a smug grin. With
drawing his fingers from me, he picks up his fork.

  “Eat, you’ll need your energy for tonight.”

  I oblige him. Shuttering as the last of the ice melts inside me. Fuck, I set a mental reminder to myself to never piss him off again.

  Chapter 12

  Julian

  Dinner crawls by deliciously slow, each course bringing a new and inventive form of punishment down upon Ryan. I have to admit, I expected her to back out. To object, or leave, but she doesn’t. With each new challenge she rises to the occasion, impressing the hell out of me. By dessert, she had come in front of our waiter twice – once by my hand, and once by her own. Now, we are walking to my car quietly. Ryan’s arm is looped within my own, her weight pressed into me with the current shaky condition of her legs. It’s time for the next round.

  Pulling her abruptly into an alley between store fronts, I back her into a wall, lifting her. She understands immediately what I want, wrapping her legs around my waist. I capture her in a kiss, and, damn, she tastes fucking amazing. Like red wine and pure sin. Grinding against her, I can feel her wetness permeating through the fabric of my slacks, causing my cock to twitch.

  “Tell me what you want, Ryan.”

  “You.” She bites out, growling against my lips. I laugh, almost impressed with the resolve of the manners her parents hammered into her.

  “You know what I’m looking for baby. The sooner you give it to me the sooner you get what you want.”

  Ryan whimpers against my lips; I swear to God it's the most alluring fucking sound I’ve ever heard. I could listen to it for the rest of my life.

  Dropping her gently to her feet, I press a kiss to her lips.

  “You remember you’re mine?” I ask her.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good. Then be a good girl and show me.” I step back a few inches, unbuttoning my slacks. Ryan’s eyes light with arousal and excitement as soon as she registers my meaning. She sinks to her knees with far more enthusiasm than I would have expected from her last week.