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Two young assistants emerge from the back room, holding silver trays. One contains flutes of champagne, and the other is laden with frou-frou canapés.
I lead Emberly to the nearest seat and make sure she’s comfortable before accepting two glasses.
“Is this all for us?” she asks, her eyes wide, her face flushed.
“Tonight’s all about you, baby. Pick anything you want.” I reach into my pocket and pull out an ebony card engraved with her name.
She raises her palms. “I can’t accept this.”
“Do you want to get spanked?” I slide the card into the cup of her sundress. “Give it to Maria and use it to pay for a new wardrobe.”
“But why?” she whispers. “You’ve bought me so much already.”
I tap her thigh. “Because I dressed you up like my own personal doll and you looked beautiful. Now, I want you to have a wardrobe suited to your taste.”
“You think I have good taste?” she asks, her voice lowering.
“You’ve got more flair in your little finger than most people do in their entire body. Now drink up, have a snack and shop.”
Flushing, she drinks half a glass of champagne as though needing to cool down. Then she walks over to the nearest rack. Maria follows her, offering advice on cuts and color combinations.
I sit back and watch Emberly take control, describing her preferred colors and shapes, all the while snacking from the tray of canapés.
Warmth fills my chest at the sight of her looking so confident and in command. Emberly may not have been born into money, but her mastery of art gives her authority among other women.
Maria sends a third assistant back and forth to the stock room and takes notes on alterations, and the guilt festering in my gut expands until it crushes my throat.
Emberly won’t stay ignorant forever. The moment she discovers our relationship was built on vengeance and lies, she will want to leave. And I can’t let that happen. The episode on the balcony proves that she would rather chew off her arm than remain a prisoner.
I need to find another way to keep her at my side.
“What do you think?” The brightness in her voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
I turn to find Emberly holding a cropped top in a black and pink geometric pattern to her chest.
“Anything on you would be perfect,” I reply, my voice hoarse.
Her smile is so radiant that it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to pull her close. She hands the top to one of the assistants, who takes it to the storeroom to get the right size.
I watch her in the mirror as she admires herself from all angles. The art studio won’t be enough to keep her now that she’s earning money from the paintings and can pay for her own supplies. Eventually, news will spread of Callahan’s death, and she won’t even need me for protection.
How do I trap a spirit that will do anything to be free?
She places a hand on her navel, demonstrating how she wants a pair of pants to hang low on her hips and expose her belly.
The answer hits me like a lightning bolt.
I need to get her pregnant.
It should be easy enough. She’s not on birth control and insists on condoms. I just need to make sure they fail and fuck her at least twice a day to increase my chances of conception.
Once she’s pregnant, she won’t want to run, even when she discovers I swindled her out of her inheritance. I’ll explain that it will all belong to the baby.
Our baby.
My heir.
I sit straighter, already imagining Emberly’s flat belly rounding with my baby and her perfect breasts swelling with milk. My cock stirs at the thought of filling that tight pussy with enough seed to produce a child.
