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Lily
“Where are we?” I ask, staring at the white brick building with the fancy looking doorman standing in the front.
“My condo,” Stefan replies around the snap of his seat belt unbuckling. I fully expected to accompany him to another quick meeting like I’d been the past couple hours. After we ate, he carried me with him to his office where I met his assistant, Angie and some guy named Jake. Stefan told me that the rest of his team is still in Arizona, keeping up the business there. After we left his office, we went to his real estate attorney’s office where they poured over the contract, going over every minor detail in a way that seemed to be overkill to me. Now, we’re at his home. My stomach flutters.
The 98 degree temperature and choking humidity sticks to my skin as soon as I step out of the car, making me instantly miss the frosty AC. Another man, younger than the doorman, but dressed similarly, appears to take Stefan’s keys. The doorman greets us before he opens the door. I notice how cleanly pressed his black and gold uniform is.
Inside my shoes click click click against the glossy white tiled floors as Stefan leads me to the elevator. His phone is out, and I can see an app open on the screen loading to unlock his access to the elevator. What kind of fancy rich people place uses an app to access the elevator?
The walls of the elevator are mirrors, and I see how red my face is. My hair is a little too frizzy from the humidity, individual strands sticking out all over the place. I comb my fingers through it before dropping my hands when I notice Stefan smirking at me through the mirror, one dimple on full display.
He has to use the app again before the elevator will let him go to the floor he wants, and I understand why when the elevator doors part to let us out. I expected a hallway with doors leading to apartments. This entire floor is his apartment. The elevator doors parted to a blindingly bright open floor living area. The black and white tiled floors and creamy white walls bounce the light around like a dodgeball.
“Who did you get to decorate this place?” I ask, hating the awe in my voice. I’m afraid to even put my purse down on this furniture. Everything looks expensive, even the gold trimmed glass coffee table in front of the cream white leather couch.
“It came furnished. I hate decorating and designing. That’s why we hired a designer for our properties,” Stefan says, his expression empty as he walks past me through the living area and disappears around the corner. His tone is so flippant.
I follow after a few seconds tip toeing to keep my dirty shoes from scuffing the beautiful floors. I feel like a stain in this elegant place. Stefan’s head pops out from around the corner, his eyes narrowing when he sees how slowly I’m moving.
“You’re making me wait.”
I shuffle along, meeting him as fast as I can.
Around the corner is a hallway with four doors, two on each side. Stefan stops at the last door all the way down the hall. He plays with the keys in his hand until he finds the one he wants and unlocks the door. When I’m about to walk through the door, he stops me with a palm to my stomach sending a tightening, throbbing sensation to my already sopping pussy.
“I have rules,” he says, his eyes burning into mine. “Before we start. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” I mumble, biting back the excited grin that’s trying to ruin my composure.
“Rule number one. Use your safeword as many times as you need. Never hesitate. If you’re uncomfortable or in pain, pain that you don’t like, use your safeword. Understand?”
I nod, my eyes wide as my blood pumps blindingly intense desire through me to settle like a pool in my pussy.
“Good girl. Rule number two, do not disobey me. If you don’t use your safeword, I expect obedience. Do you consent to rule number two?”
I nod again, twisting my hands together to keep from touching him.
“Rule number three, do not make yourself come and do not come without permission. I’ll edge you twice as many times as planned if you do. Do you consent?”
“Edge me?” I mutter, my frown a question on my brow. He smiles, lovingly tracing the curve of my chin.
“Yes, little cat. It means I will bring you right to the brink of orgasm and stop before it comes. When you finally do orgasm, it will likely be the most intense, pleasurable orgasm you’ve ever had. Do I have your consent?”
I’m practically salivating, so I shut my mouth and nod.
“I need to hear you say it,” he says, his eyes still with the most serious expression I have ever seen there.
“Yes,” I reply firmly before my face splits with a grin. His answering smile is dazzling.
“One last thing, and may I remind you, please say no if this makes you uncomfortable. I want to cuff you to the bed. Is that okay?”
“Like handcuffs?” I ask. He reaches out his hand and uses his thumb to pull my bottom lip from between my teeth. I didn’t even realize I was biting it.
“Yes, sort of. The cuffs are attached to chains that are built into the bed. They will leave you with enough room to move, but restrict you if you try to touch yourself to come.”
I gasp, my heart thundering in my chest. I’ve never been handcuffed before.
“I consent,” I whisper, my hands on my breasts before I even notice what I’m doing. His eyes darken instantly and his nostrils flare. He leans in cradling my cheek in his palm.
