AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Aidan
Ontheotherside of the white curtain, Grace is taking her clothes off.
“I’ve got some more skirts and a lovely nightgown here for you,” Jen says, her arms full of lacy, pastel-colored garments.
I’m seated on a leather sofa outside Grace’s dressing room in a high-end clothing boutique that I’ve had closed for a private shopping trip. A saleswoman offers to refill my champagne glass for the third time, clearly miffed that Jen won’t let her anywhere near Grace.
“Are you sure you don’t need any assistance?” the saleswoman asks.
“Thank you, we’re fine.” Jen barely spares her a glance. “How are we doing in there, love?”
The curtain shifts and my ray of sunshine emerges.
“I think I like this one.” Grace twirls in front of the large mirror, sending the pink dress with white embroidered peonies fanning around her legs. It’s the fourth dress she’s tried on at this boutique, and one of dozens she’s tried on this afternoon. I can tell she’s grown tired of shopping, but she’s too polite and gracious to say it aloud.
Too bad I haven’t grown tired of spoiling her.
This morning, I sent her and Jen to a luxury spa in the city while I took care of a few things at the office. I stopped by Liam’s new apartment on my way to meet the women for lunch; he has yet to secure a job but claims to be working on it.
On any other day, I would’ve pressed him, but today isn’t a normal day.
It’s Grace’s birthday, and I refuse to concern myself with anything else.
So far, she’s been primped and pampered and showered with all the presents she could ever want. Gourmet truffles and treats from the best chocolatiers and bakeries in the city, savored on the deck of a private chartered yacht. Diamond jewelry, tickets to the ballet, and enough designer shoes, purses, and clothes to fill her closet.
I know these gifts can never replace the personal items she lost, but I hope they can help her to feel more at home under my roof.
But that’s not the only reason I have for indulging her.
“What do you think, Aidan?” she asks.
I let my gaze drip down her body.
“I think you look amazing,” I tell her.
Her cheeks glow as she struggles to suppress a yawn.
Excessive generosity is a sinister form of sadism. I take pleasure in Grace’s struggle to balance her gratitude with her impatience.
Over pancakes this morning, I mentioned that I have something special to give her tonight. She’s been trying to pry details out of me all afternoon, but my mouth is a locked safe. All she knows is that she can’t have it until after dinner, which I keep putting off with additional shopping expeditions.
Witnessing the frustration pass like a storm across her features is more alluring than a lap dance—though there’s a part of me that would love to challenge that notion. It’s a part of myself I will need to keep in constant check should she choose to wear my collar.
I’m not used to having to fight my body because I don’t get aroused during scenes, and I don’t get romantically involved with women who know I’m a Dom.
But Grace has a talent for subverting my expectations at every turn.
My attraction to her is a complication I’m willing to accept. If I have to choose between cuffing her to my bed and leaving my mark all over her body, and making missionary-style love to her in the dark, I’ll choose the former.
Dating her would bring me pleasure, but owning her, possessing her, having every inch of her glorious body under my control, will be a far sweeter reward.
In the weeks since Grace returned from school, I’ve permitted myself to touch her more often. I’ll wrap my arm around her on the sofa while she reads aloud from a book of her choosing, or stroke her cheek as I wish her goodnight.
“Shall I have the saleswomen start packing up Grace’s items?” Jen asks. “I can let Paolo know we’re getting ready to head back.”
Grace perks up at the mention of dinner, her gaze earnest.
“That will be fine,” I say.
