Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Alone in the backseat, I let out a breath and tilted my head back on the seat.
I felt… flustered. Off-kilter.
I wasn’t sure what the problem was. If maybe the sex club had just been too much for me or what. Not that it mattered. We wouldn’t be going again. I tried as often as possible not to repeat destinations. There wasn’t usually much of a reason to do so, with the way places changed in the city in a blink.
“Have a good night, Miss Chandelier,” Eric called as he held the door open for me.
“Thanks, Eric. You too. Go get some sleep.”
I probably should have asked my father to get me a second driver, so Eric got some time off. But I usually wasn’t very active early in the day. And if I was, I walked. He rarely had to work until after five or six at night.
“You too, miss,” he said, giving me his old, familiar smile. There were more crinkles around his eyes these days.
I ignored the guard as I made my way into the building, choosing to mess around with my phone as we rode up the elevator together, so I didn’t accidentally make eye contact with him.
He seemed fine with the silence as I let out Hugh, then checked his water dish before making my way toward my room.
Or so I thought.
Because no sooner than I exhaled a deep breath, I heard his footsteps slow and stop in front of my room.
“What?” I snapped, feeling too wonky to deal with him and his disapproval right then.
“Turn around,” he demanded in that voice he’d used when bossing me around about the food and water that morning.
It was a voice that had me immediately doing as he demanded even as my mind screamed at me to do anything but that.
So I did turn.
But just, I assured myself, to give him a piece of my mind about his attitude.
“I don’t know what you think you are doing in my—“ I started.
But he cut me off.
“Get on your fucking knees, Scarlet.”
My head whipped back, too shocked to do anything but stare at him, mouth agape, for a long moment.
“Excu—“
He took a step forward, towering over me, his face and gaze so dark that a shiver coursed down my spine.
“I said get on your fucking knees,” he growled.
My legs went immediately wobbly, my knees starting to bend.
But no.
No.
I wasn’t going to kneel for this asshole.
Who did he think he—
“Get on your knees, or I will put you there.”
His tone said he was perfectly comfortable making good on that threat.
My knees bent this time.
All the way to the cold wood floor at the edge of my carpet.
No one ever spoke to me like that. Ever told me what to do.
Surely that was the only reason I actually did it.
Because I was too shocked at his audacity to think straight.
This unusual sound moved through him then, almost like a rumble. It vibrated in his chest.
And as weird as this sounded, I swore I could feel it doing the same into my own chest, making my heart and lungs feel shaky.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured in that same low, deep tone as his fingers snagged me under my chin, jerking it up. “Eyes down,” he demanded when mine immediately rose. “Just like that,” he said as his fingers released my chin to drift up my jaw before falling away.
He walked around me then, moving behind me.
“You behaved badly tonight,” he started.
Was that my mattress?
Did he sit on my bed?
That was such a gross invasion for an employ—
“I—“
“Don’t argue,” he snapped. “I didn’t give you permission to speak,” he added.
What the fuck was going on?
And why was I just kneeling there?
I needed to get up.
I needed to…
“Put your hands on the floor,” he demanded.
“What d—“
“Put your hands on the floor,” he growled, enunciating each word like its own sentence.
Why did I do it?
Knowing my ass was pointed at him? That my skirt was likely hiking up almost enough to show him some bare butt cheek.
“Now turn and crawl to me.”
I was absolutely not going to crawl to a man.
Except, somehow, I was moving.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured again, and my belly wobbled at the praise as I crawled closer to him. “Now kneel,” he demanded. “No,” he chided. “Chin up,” he corrected me. “Eyes down. Yes, just like that. I always get to look at that pretty face,” he told me. “But you only get to look at me if I give you permission. Do you understand?” he asked.
“Y…yes,” I said, hearing a wobble in my voice. Which I was convinced was because of the way my belly was flip-flopping and my pussy was throbbing. I wouldn’t even pretend to understand that reaction.
Maybe I was drunker than I realized.
Maybe someone had slipped me something.