Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Back to that first time, when I almost didn’t believe any of this was real.
The Past, February
The iron doors to the private elevator open, and I walk in idly without conscious thought, stunned by the luxury.
A two-floor penthouse with vaulted ceilings in the living room, a ‘lounge’ that’s inlaid in black marble and filled with books, a master bathroom bigger than any home I’ve ever stepped foot in, complete with a black marble built-in jacuzzi bathtub and gilded faucets, and more.
I can’t help the overriding thought that I don’t belong here. Even as he tells me where to sit, how to sit, and that I’ve done so well learning his preferences. I bite the tip of my tongue as I think, and you’ve done a damn good job learning mine.
“It’s been thirty days, my little whore,” he says as he strokes my cheek, making my nipples tighten and my heart hammer in my chest. Who would have thought, just a month ago, that a single touch would create such a reaction in me? It’s him. It’s what he’s done to me. He plays my body like I was made for him. He knows every button to push because he installed them.
The thoughts that have been torturing me scream in my head. No one will ever give me what he has ever again. He’s ruined me.
“Yes Sir,” I reply, leaning into his touch.
I know I shouldn’t ask such questions. It’s not my role to ask. It is my role to do exactly what he wants me to do and to accept that. It’s my role to follow the rules he’s set forth.
And I fucking love it. I haven’t a single issue with that arrangement.
But I can’t help it, on today of all days. Looking up at him, I need to know. He’s been so distant over these past few hours, like he’s giving me space for some reason. Only now, as we prepare to go out for the evening, has he called me to him to talk.
On the last day of our contract. Tomorrow, I’m no longer his. Which also means he’s no longer mine.
“Have I . . . pleased you?” Nervousness wracks its way through me.
Gabriel blinks and tilts his head. “Why would you think you haven’t? You’ve learned so much about yourself, haven’t you?”
I nod, biting my lip as a heat spreads through me. “I have.”
“And do you enjoy what you’ve learned?”
The question stops me, making me think. He’s taught me the exaltation of pushing my limits and the peace that comes with accepting that if I let go and allow him to do whatever he wants to me, I can feel pleasure beyond imagination. I’ve learned that yes, there are times I crave the crack of the crop on my ass, and that a silk scarf wrapped around my wrists is a fucking aphrodisiac.
I’ve learned just how far I can take his cock all the way into my throat before the world starts to fade, and I’ve learned how long I can hold my orgasm back before a plug in my ass and a vibrator on my clit make me come so hard I nearly pass out.
I’ve learned how good it feels to simply say ‘yes, Sir’ . . . and how much those two simple words convey.
A million lessons, and I owe them all to him. “I love what I’ve learned,” I admit and then realize I said ‘love’. Such a forbidden word for a relationship like ours.
And what a stupid thing to say when in twenty-four hours, our time is up and I might never see him again.
“I appreciate your spoiling me, too.” I add the comment to distract from my previous reckless statement.
Gabriel chuckles, stroking my shoulder. “I’m glad you liked the dress.”
“I’ve liked everything you’ve given me,” I tell him honestly. “Not just the gifts but the outings and dinners, the experiences, the . . . everything.”
Gabriel nods. “You’ve been amazing as well.” His tone is lower and sincere, almost thoughtful.
I swallow, looking down at my fingers that tangle with one another in nervousness. There’s been one thing on my mind, because I know that the contract is over in just a few hours. “Sir, I want to know . . . since the contract is over tomorrow and the auction—”
Gabriel nods, his eyes darkening. “You want to do it again.”
I nod worriedly, scared that he doesn’t feel the same. After all, he has wealth I never will, experience that’s far greater than mine, and the power. He has all the power. “I don’t want this to end. I . . . I belong to you. More than the contract.” My heart races as I swallow down the question . . . could I simply be yours? With no end date?
Gabriel lets out a breath, and after a moment, he smiles. “So that’s what’s been on your mind all day.”