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The suite was really more like an apartment, if you were the kind of person who had a four bedroom, six-thousand square foot apartment with four marble bathrooms and crammed with enough furniture to seat roughly thirty-six people at one time. I wandered through the rooms, my head spinning, my eyes almost sore from taking in the elaborate decor, the fresh flowers, the gorgeous views from the windows.
I found one bedroom with a large sitting room, all done up with dusty gold walls and gilded crown molding; the bed was covered in a tarnished-gold duvet. Soft, pastel amethyst curtains cascaded down from a bed crown behind the padded, lavender headboard. The sleeping area was separated from the sitting area by a wide square doorway, and on either side, elaborate arch cutouts held gleaming, purple vases. There was a padded bench at the foot of the bed, and a view of the Eiffel Tower from the balcony.
This was the room. Absolutely.
I did as Neil instructed, wriggling out of my jeans, my jacket and my t-shirt. I carefully slipped off my long chain necklace and my silver bangles, and put my heels back on. They were the gorgeous, gleaming nude pumps Neil had given me for Christmas. I had thought it only appropriate to wear them for the first night of our trip.
A chandelier hung above the foot of the bed. I found the dimmer switch and turned the lights down low, then knelt, leaning over the upholstered bench, my back arched, ass in the air.
So, we were starting now. I ached at the thought. I’d promised him three days of total submission, and that was exactly what he would get. Whether it was a present for him, or for me, remained to be seen.
I heard his conversation with the hotel representative end, heard the sound of footsteps in the entry hall. Was he coming this way? How long would he make me wait?
I listened as Neil moved methodically from room to room, heard the click of lights turning on and off. Was he really giving himself a tour, when we’d just gone for ten days without fucking? Didn’t he have any clue how much torture this was?
He knows exactly what he’s doing, I reminded myself. This was a part of his fantasy of control. The man who was always on time everywhere, the man who was so courteous and never made anyone wait, got some sick thrill from making me wait. I shifted on my knees in agony, my empty pussy clenching in anticipation.
When he finally came in, his presence electrified the room. The smell of his cologne, the faint sound of his clothing rustling, every part of me reached for every part of him, though I didn’t move a muscle. My senses sought him out, wanting. I vividly imagined the feeling of his palm smoothing over my backside, and I couldn’t handle the simple task of breathing. I hiccoughed, and flushed in embarrassment.
He walked slowly toward me. Every footfall on the carpet seemed a thousand times louder than it actually was. He stood beside me; the creases in his trouser legs filled my field of vision. I didn’t look up at him, because I hadn’t been invited to.
Submission was like riding a goddamned bicycle. I’d needed training wheels to begin with, but I got my balance faster every time. My Sir had told me to wait, so I would. Until he gave me any other instructions, I would wait. With every second that passed, I grew more confident in my role.
“You look very beautiful like this,” he said in a reverent hush. One fingertip fell on my skin, just above the waistband of my panties, a silky, pale pink thong. I imagined that I looked like a piece of candy kneeling there over the pastel blue bench. I took a breath as he traced the edge of the material over the curve of one cheek, down, down, between my legs. My whole body shivered, my hair sliding over my back, raising goose bumps.
“It’s been too long, Sophie,” he said on a ragged whisper.
Yes, far too long, and I was so ready. I didn’t care if he fucked me like this, right now, and it was all over in ten minutes. I needed him, with an ache that was becoming acute pain. A light slap to my ass made me jump, but it wasn’t hard enough to do more than tease me.
“As much as I’d like to begin right away, there’s something I need to do first.” With a hand at my nape and another beneath my elbow, he urged me to my feet. I stood up tall in my heels, my breasts lifted, nipples hard pebbles from the touch of the velour bench.
A faint smile crossed his lips as he looked me over. “This way, please.”
