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“Electricity—” I can see how that would be intimidating. It isn’t my favorite, anyway.
“Foot worship—” Don’t blame her there.
“Golden showers—” We’ll talk about that one.
“Humiliation, hypnotism, infantilism, injections, mummification, scat, sounding, triple penetration…”
But sounding is so much fun…
The entire time Rafael reads, Jordan holds my stare. Her pride is from her father. I don’t hate it.
Rafael continues. “Soft limits. Anal sex, double penetration, edge play—” Well, that’s because she’s a spoiled brat and always gets what she wants. We’ll change that. “Fantasy rape play, fisting, videotaping.”
“My, my…” I tsk. Her soft limit list is my dream come true. Bet I’ll have her addicted to each and every one of those things within the month. “It seems anything isn’t quite true, is it, Jordan?”
Her eyes widen, filling with fear. “I just—”
“Seems like you’ve told I lie,” I say.
“No!” She shakes her head violently, looking to Rafael for help. He won’t help her. Hell, he’s not even looking at her, and I don’t need to look at him to know that. He knows the rules, knows how it goes. “I—”
“Shh,” I whisper, leaning down to get eye level with her. I smile. “I’m messing with you.”
Lies.
Relief washes over her face, but the terror is still in her eyes.
I gesture for Rafael to get on the bed. He folds the paper and places it on the end table beside the bag, then sits on the edge of the bed to take his shoes off. Once they’re neatly placed to the side, he lies down in the middle of the bed, and I step to the side to allow Jordan to see him.
“I don’t understand what’s happening here, Enzo,” she says in a trembling voice. “I-I don’t know what you want me to do.”
I love the way she says my name, like I’m the one who is going to save her.
I’m the one who’s going to break her.
Doesn’t she realize it isn’t her father she should fear? It’s me.
I take another step further away, tapping my chin with my finger.
“Per the contract of the key party, Rafael and I have you all night.”
She looks from me back to Rafael.
“O-okay.”
“I paid good money to be here,” I say. “A lot of money.”
“I could pay you back. I-I don’t want to ruin this for you.”
Money isn’t what I want. I don’t care about it, it’s just something for me to use against her. To make her feel bad. To really push that I’ll do anything, I swear, comment.
I smirk at her. “I know you don’t want that. You’re going to make everything perfect.”
“I am?” she asks breathlessly.
“You are.” I step to her, running my knuckles down her cheek. “Because you’re going to do everything I tell you to. Like a good little girl. Aren’t you, Jordan?”
She sucks in a sharp inhale and breathes out the most beautiful, hypnotic, “Yes,” I’ve ever heard in my life.
