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“Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll quit. I’ll quit Hooger’s to become your plaything. Are you happy now?”
Cameron chuckles to himself, looking totally cool and confident. I want to smack that sly grin right off those perfect lips of his, but at the same time, I know this handsome man is getting under my skin.
6
Jessalyn
* * *
I don’t eat much of my dinner. While it smelled incredibly delicious, I had no appetite given my situation. Of course, Cameron went back to finishing his meal while I sat there scowling at this man I was being controlled by. I swear my resentment didn’t bother him at all.
After dinner, Cameron tells me to follow him to the study for some after-dinner drinks. The study is a room on the second floor of the house, with deep forest-green walls. There’s an oak desk with a chair behind it, and floor to ceiling bookshelves loaded with texts. There’s a small lounge sofa against one of the walls. I assume he wants to get work done, so I immediately head to the small sofa in the corner. But then, Cameron makes a low noise in his chest. It startles me and I turn to look to him.
“Not there. Over here,” he says, walking to sit at the green chair behind the desk.
I look at him, confused.
“Where?” After all, there’s no chair for me to sit in.
As Cameron pours himself some cognac, he speaks again. He doesn’t even look at me as he says, “The floor next to my chair.”
I stare at him. I’m sitting on the floor?!
“I also want you to take off your lingerie,” he says in a calm voice. “The door is closed and the staff won’t come in without knocking. Now, sweetheart.”
His voice is commanding and Cameron looks at me with hard eyes on the last word. I feel my cheeks flush. My mouth falls open but quickly shuts. I shouldn’t be surprised at anything this man says anymore. He’s clearly deranged.
Against my better judgement, I do as he says. I twist my body out of the flimsy lace without breaking eye contact. The way he’s holding my gaze and sipping his cognac as I strip for him feels so erotic, yet also shameful. I lift the straps over my head, revealing my busty breasts and they sway as they are no longer bound. The curves of my hips are smooth and golden, and I watch as Cameron’s breath hitches. His eyes skim down my exposed body as I stand in front of him, wearing nothing but the red high heels. I feel my pussy start to moisten at the way this feels. He’s so commanding and handsome, and it’s a dangerous combination.
Cameron points to a pillow he’s laid down on the spot next to his chair. My heels softly clack, and then gracefully, I lower myself on my knees onto the pillow. A part of me feels embarrassed at being like this, but as I wait next to Cameron, I anticipate his next move. Will he touch me? Kiss me? Satisfy me?
But Cameron doesn’t even turn as I look up to him with questioning eyes. Instead, he ignores me. I watch as he casually sips his cognac before picking up a copy of the newspaper, perusing it as if he has all the time in the world to do so.
Oh my god, what is this? Am I his pet? My stomach sinks with the humiliation and hurt that I feel. I want him to do something: touch me, speak to me, or at least acknowledge me in some way. Why is he having me sit like this?
A few minutes later, Cameron’s hand stretches out to stroke my hair as if I am his pet. He does this several times while keeping his attention on the newspaper, letting his fingers run through my curls absentmindedly. It’s maddening. As I sit here on the pillow, I can’t help but feel… feel… frustrated. Sitting next to Cameron in this position wearing only high heels messes with my senses. I hate the anticipation and need building inside. The longer I sit like this, the more I want him. I hate him, yet I crave the attention from Cameron. It’s getting to the point where the stroking isn’t enough; I’d let him do anything to me. Just being here, like this, is enough to make me wet with desire, and I detest the twist in my stomach that makes me want him.
He continues to stroke my hair for what feels like eternity, but is probably only ten minutes. I sit there, paralyzed with a combination of need, desire, and humiliation. The way he’s stroking my hair right now is not the touch I want from him. This is embarrassing and demeaning and I–
Then, his hand slides down to cup my breast and it tortures me. I revel in the sensation of Cameron’s hand on my exposed skin, especially when he lightly pinches my nipple. I suck in a sharp breath and whimper at the sensation, but then, my mouth is quickly claimed by his.
