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My skin tingles with the beginning of a blush, and I breathe hard, trying to push away the start of a mental orgasm. Even without the prospect of ensnaring him as my sugar daddy, I would still want him as a boyfriend.
Failing that, a one-night stand.
Marius is everything I’ve never dared to desire, and now that there’s no Dad checking up on me every hour of the day, I’m going to enjoy a rich and varied life.
His brow rises, and I realize that I haven’t answered his question.
I like toreadabout playing. And I like to play with myself while consuming smut. But I’ve never so much as been spanked. At least not in a way that could be considered naughty or fun.
According to Dad, I’m the world’s shittiest liar, so I give him my most sideways answer.
“The real question is, do you?” I ask.
My future sugar daddy gives me a sharp grin that both communicates he’s aware that I haven’t given him an answer and that he’s not the sort of man who will dominate a woman unless she proves herself worthy.
My skin tingles with a sensation of static electricity.
“How would you like to see my playroom?” he asks.
I rest my weight on one hip. “Is it impressive, then?”
His eyes light up, and I realize I’ve just made an innuendo. The blush I was trying to hold back returns with a vengeance to burn me from the inside out.
“Come to my house next Saturday and see for yourself,Phoenix.”
If my body was a temperature gauge, the mercury would be spilling out of the top of my head and pouring down the sides of my face.
Shit.
I went from being beneath this man’s notice to getting a guided tour of his sex dungeon.
Thanks Dad, wherever you are. Because by this time next week, I’ll be everything you despise.
ChapterTwo
MARIUS
I knew she was trouble the moment she entered the store, but I thought it would be the different kind.
Phoenix, if that’s her real name, gazes up at me with doe eyes that radiate an intriguing combination of innocence and danger.
She’s beautiful, with a peaches-and-cream complexion that betrays every nuance of her emotions, and delicate little features that give her the fragility of a porcelain doll.
But I’m not the kind of man to weaken in the presence of a pretty face. I like mine dirty.
Yet those plump lips of hers would look perfect begging me for more.
I’d written her off earlier as having stumbled into the wrong store or here to give the asshole behind the desk a sermon. Why else would a woman that pretty walk in here dressed like she’s about to teach Sunday school?
But when that opportunistic sub made a play for her. I had to intervene. I still want to punch that skinny motherfucker in the throat for pretending to be a switch. The lifestyle doesn’t exist for horny bastards to take advantage of women’s kinks.
And there isn’t a way in hell he would know what to do with a brat. Instead, I reach into the inside pocket of my blazer for my phone.
“Give me your number.”
“What?” she whispers.
I raise a brow, holding back a smirk as her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink.
