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My cheeks burned.
“You’ve always treated me like a princess,” I admitted. “But not like this…this is different.”
“Nothing less for you, cariad.”
He pushed his middle finger into me all the way and stroked that sweet spot on my front wall. Slow and deep, keeping a gentle pressure where I needed it most.
“If you don’t stop, we’ll never leave,” I gasped.
He laughed softly and pulled his hand free, licking his fingers clean. Our eyes met and heat sparked, filling the air with electricity.
This man would be the death of me.
“Open the rest,” he said.
I obeyed, letting a silky, red dress and a pair of red bottomed shoes spill out. The lining of the dress was short and tight and it had a draping, transparent skirt that reached the ground.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed.
“Not as beautiful as you, Clara.”
I looked up at him and there was a long silence. In it, I felt all the things we were both too afraid to say. The weight of knowing this had to end.
“Put it on,” he ordered. “I want to watch you dress.”
He wasn’t in the mood to be disobeyed and I wasn’t in the mood to disobey. Something about him walking in here knowing exactly what he wanted me to wear and where he intended to take me had sparked an unfamiliar desire to be submissive.
Usually, I liked challenging him.
But not tonight.
Tonight he was in control and we both knew it.
He sank into the chair in the corner, one leg crossed over the other. Eyes glued to me, dark lashes heavy.
“Strip for me,” he said. “Put what I bought for you on.”
My hands tingled as I took my clothes off and slid on the delicate lace. It settled perfectly on my hips and breasts. Exactly the right size. The dress settled over it like it was made for me.
He rose and joined me before the mirror. Gathering my hair and kissing the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. He zipped the dress closed and his eyes met mine in the mirror.
“You are beautiful, Clara,” he said softly.
I wanted to thank him, but I was too breathless to speak.
His mouth burned the side of my neck in a slow kiss and my head fell back against his chest. My lids closed.
“You wanted to know how it feels to be my woman,” he murmured. “Let me show you tonight.”
I snapped my eyes open. Hanging from his lean fingers, just before my eyes, was a delicate gold chain with a single, glittering diamond.
He brushed the hairs falling over my neck aside and clasped it. It slid down and rested above my cleavage.
“I want you spoiled, cariad,” he breathed. “I want my diamonds on your pussy.”
It didn’t hit me what that meant until we were in the car, driving into the dark.
Piercings.
