Page 39 of Vienna Bliss

“I like calling you ‘Sir’, Sir.” Alena finished buttoning the blouse. “But if you’re uncomfortable and don’t want—”

“What I want is to stop all of this and lock you in my apartment. I want to keep you safe.”

“Oh?” Alena leaned into him. “And am I safe with you?”

His gaze darkened and she internally winced. She hadn’t meant that like it sounded.

“You’re not,” he said sharply.

She needed him in that sexy Alexander-the-Dom headspace. Not in this worried, guilty, pissed-off-because-he-was-being-forced-to-go-along-with-a-plan-he-hated headspace.

Alena stood on her toes and nipped his chin as she slid her hand over his crotch and fondled him. “Good.”

Alexander’s breath caught and his gaze sharpened.

“I know I say this isn’t a game, and us—” She gestured between them. “We, aren’t. But the auction, everything leading up to it, it’s just a game.”

“Well, thinking of it like a game…A game makes me.” He sighed. “Makes me feel less…”

“Hopefully it will make you feel like my lord and master,” she purred. Alena reached for the skirt she’d picked to go with the shirt. It was a pale pink taffeta with silk, cut full enough to have a little bit of a twirl.

She slipped on a pair of silver ballet flats once the skirt was on and then twirled.

“Well, Sir, what do you think of your sweet, obedient submissive?”

This time, he smiled, then crooked a finger at her.

When she walked close he grabbed the hem of her skirt, gathering it, pulling it up until her naked pussy was exposed. Alexander held her skirt up and leaned back to look down at her sex, then nodded in satisfaction.

A wave of arousal swept over her. His high-handed, arrogant dominance was like catnip to the submissive part of her brain.

He released her skirt and then unbuttoned her shirt far enough that he could spread it open, exposing her breasts. He examined them the way he had her pussy. When his thumbs swiped over her nipples, she arched her back and closed her eyes.

“Lick,” he ordered, pressing his thumb to her mouth.

She obediently ran her tongue over his thumb and when he pressed it into her mouth, she sucked on it.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, withdrawing his thumb and then rubbing it in circles around each nipple. She gasped at the chilled sensation left behind, and then watched as he buttoned her shirt up once more.

He examined her, then said, “Wear your hair up.”

Alena nodded and left the wardrobe for the bathroom. She’d dried her hair and added in some loose waves with the hair dryer and a round brush so it didn’t take much to pull together a simple bun that looked good enough to go with the rest of her outfit. While she was adjusting a few stray pieces, Alexander appeared in the mirror. He walked up behind her, and when she lowered her arms he reached around her from behind, presenting a flat rectangular box.

“Open it.”

Alena lifted the hinged lid, revealing a triple strand of fat, white pearls.

He left her holding the box and then started adjusting her collar, pulling it open.

“Alexander, I thought we agreed I would wear a collar.”

“That is a collar.”

“No, this is thousands of dollars worth of pearls.” They had the luminous and not completely uniform quality of real pearls. Some even had a faintly pink or pale green undertone to their color. She had bought herself plenty of pearls—the hundred-inch hand knotted strand was one of her favorites, because it worked for almost any occasion—but this was something entirely else.

“It is a collar.” He lifted it out of the box and undid the clasp, which was studded with diamonds. He slid it around her neck, and fastened it.

The three strands were equal in length and sat high on her neck, like a choker.