Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I loved to lavish gifts on girls like Leah, when they deserved them, but I wanted something long term, sometime soon, and I didn’t want money to play any important role in finding the submissive woman I could marry and share my life with. Sure, the money would help a great deal in the process of finding my wife, but I knew I needed someone who didn’t just submit to my guidance and return my affection because she knew she would get the trappings of a luxury lifestyle in exchange.
Yes, there might be something absurdly hot about the material side of things, I reflected as I looked at the gorgeous redhead in the sexy green romper. If Leah, for example, knew she would earn a diamond necklace for obediently spreading her bottom-cheeks for me when I instructed her to prepare herself for anal, and for taking my cock there after a spanking with blushing gratitude for her punishment…
The thought made me stiffen against my thigh, but it didn’t represent the heart of the matter. That lay in the possibility that Leah longed not for material comfort but for a true partnership with a man who could take care of her in other, more important ways, as well.
A true partnership, if an unequal one. An alpha who knows how to keep a naughty, inexperienced young woman in line in the bedroom and elsewhere.
I watched her take her lower lip between her teeth and chew on it thoughtfully. A tiny crease appeared on her forehead, and I couldn’t help recalling the way her face had looked during the photoshoot with the Selecta photographer. I suddenly felt as if I could read her mind, and though I knew it came in part from my undeniable arrogance, I didn’t have any doubt: Leah had started to think about me.
As if to confirm that idea, she turned away from the view, and I had a precious moment of observation as her eyes swung toward me. I saw anxiety in her face, but at the same time her lips parted just a little, and though I couldn’t tell why, I felt absolutely certain that she had the same dilemma going on inside her heart and mind that I had, watching her: Leah wanted this date to represent only a financial transaction, but she had started to learn what she really needed, and she understood, deep down and almost subconsciously, that my dominance could give it to her.
Her eyes fixed on me, and widened. I smiled.
“Leah,” I said. “I’m Christian.”
Leah
How could he be more handsome in person? I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as much because I hadn’t done Christian’s gorgeous eyes justice as I pictured him walking into the bar as because of what my daydream had shown me he might do.
“Hi,” I said weakly. “I’m… I mean, you know… I’m Leah?”
What the fuck. You actually just said your first name as if you weren’t sure about it.
I had the terrible problem that while Christian’s actual arrival, and his physical existence here in the elegant bar a few feet away from me, should have dispelled my distressing fantasy of a moment before, it absolutely did not. Christian’s dark eyes should have reassured me that he would never do what I had helplessly pictured him doing as I looked out over the stunning vista of Beverly Hills. Instead, they seemed to tell me he would in fact, do that. This man, my overactive, treasonous imagination told me, definitely would tell me to get up and take off my romper so that he could see what I had on underneath—what he had gotten for his money, so far.
As he stepped closer, smiling, and put out his hand for me to shake, part of my mind felt comforted by the evident fact that he had no intention of giving such a command to a girl he had just met. At the same time, though, I couldn’t help thinking that something about his expression conveyed a different message: this man definitely reserved the right, his intelligent gaze told me, to tell me to strip for his inspection whenever he chose.
“It’s great to meet you,” he said, maintaining eye contact as he moved to sit down across from me.
I blushed again.
Dammit, I told my circulatory system, you have to stop. It felt like my body had stopped obeying even my simplest intentions: the blood came and went in different, unwelcome parts of me as if according to someone else’s wishes.
His wishes. That look in his gorgeous eyes: it said that really he already had met me in one very important, very shameful sense. The heat in my face, and the way it affected me down below, where I had obediently prepared myself—on this first date, no less—for him… it gave me the dismaying news that some part of me couldn’t help responding to this embarrassing, ongoing ‘story.’