Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I was drowning in sensation, my body a live wire of conflicting sensations and emotions. Yet, beneath it all, there lay that hot, dark, hidden part of me that reveled in this surrender, that craved more of Joseph’s dominance.
As soon as I had managed to lower myself onto the chair, the waiter appeared as if on cue, his eyes lingering on mine just a fraction too long. My cheeks flared as he placed the dessert in front of us, announcing it as a deconstructed chocolate mousse, its delicate different components layered and assembled in a way that made it look like a consummate work of art.
“Well done, Ingrid,” Joseph murmured, his voice low and filled with dark promise. His hand captured mine across the table, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a gesture that felt both possessive and unexpectedly tender.
“Thank you, sir,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I raised my eyes to meet his at last. The words felt like an anchor in the storm of sensations threatening to overwhelm me, and the smile in Joseph’s eyes filled my chest with a helpless rush of pride and, insane as it seemed, affection.
I perched on the edge of my chair, the metal plug inside me a constant, throbbing reminder of my submission. Each tiny movement sent ripples of sensation through my body, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but the fullness, the intrusion that had become the center of my world.
In the dessert there was creaminess, crunchiness, and the most intense chocolate flavor I had ever experienced. The tastes, to my mingled delight and dismay, only heightened my arousal. I felt my cheeks flush a deep, mortifying red, and the heat spreading down my neck and pooling between my thighs. Each bite seemed a struggle to maintain composure, to keep from squirming under Joseph’s unwavering gaze.
He must have paid for dinner while I had obeyed his terrible command in the bathroom. As soon as I had scooped the last bit of whipped cream from the plate and, quailing inside at the thought of what came next, licked it from the spoon, Joseph said, rising from the table and reaching his hand toward me to help me up, “Time to go.”
I looked up at him, biting my lower lip. I could still quit my job. I would have gotten an incredibly nice dinner out of it. I would make out like a bandit, especially if Selecta really did help me find a new position.
I took Joseph’s hand.
The limousine ride back to his high-rise felt interminable. The plush leather seats did little to alleviate the discomfort of the plug. I shifted restlessly, unable to find a position that offered relief. Joseph watched me with a mixture of amusement and something darker, more possessive.
“Fidgeting won’t help, Ingrid,” he said, his voice a smooth caress. “You’ll have to get used to your anal training. It’s important that you’re ready for me.”
His words sent a fresh wave of heat through me, my body responding despite the humiliation.
No, little slut, said the watcher. Because of the humiliation. You need this. You need it. You need it in the ass.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.
I tried to sit still, to obey, but every jolt of the car, every slight shift, reminded me of the plug buried deep inside me. It was impossible to forget, impossible to think of anything else.
CHAPTER 18
Joseph
When the elevator doors opened, the luxurious silence of my apartment, which occupied the whole thirty-first floor of the building, seemed to reach into the mirrored space and surround us. I put my hand on Ingrid’s bottom, cupping and exploring a little, feeling for the sweet distension of her cheeks that represented the only palpable sign of the little plug’s presence in her delectable anus.
She looked up at me, her eyes troubled with understandable apprehension as well as the unmistakable, helpless arousal that made my cock leap along my thigh. With a pressure on her backside that I meant as a wordless command, I propelled her forward out of the elevator and into the foyer.
Our footsteps echoed against the marble floor of the commodious space, each sound a seeming reminder of the opulence that I couldn’t help taking a good deal of pride in. Ingrid’s wide eyes darted around, taking in the decor I had spent so much time, effort, and cold hard cash on—perfectly spaced recessed lighting, velvet drapes, the art that cost a good deal more than her yearly salary, as generously as Selecta paid its secretaries. My gaze lingered on her expression, savoring every flicker of shock and awe. Her reaction intoxicated me, letting me feel how stark a contrast to her previously modest life I’d presented to her.
I saw her swallow, a delicate movement that seemed to capture so much about these first explorations of her submissive nature. She clearly felt out of her element here, and it showed in the way she hesitated, her petite frame trembling a little with obvious uncertainty.