"Then you touched yourself while in the corner? Then you came, screaming my name loud enough for the cameras to pick up. Then you moved to the couch, where you've been sitting for the last hour, probably touching yourself more?"
"Only a little," she said, and the admission was so brazen I almost laughed. "I was already wet from the first one. Seemed wasteful not to continue."
Christ. This woman would be my undoing—defiant and honest in equal measure, breaking rules while maintaining eye contact, challenging my authority while calling me Daddy.
"Are you angry?" she asked, but her tone suggested she didn't care if I was.
"No," I said truthfully, and her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "I'm impressed by your honesty. Frustrated by your complete inability to follow simple instructions. Aroused by your defiance despite myself. And absolutely certain you need more structure than I initially thought."
I pulled the contract from my jacket, setting it deliberately on the coffee table between us. The folder was nice—leather, professional, the kind of thing that suggested importance. Eva's eyes tracked to it immediately, curiosity warring with suspicion.
"What's that?"
"Homework," I said, sitting in the chair across from her, needing distance to think clearly. "Reading material. The framework for what we're building here."
"We're building something?" The sarcasm slipped slightly, revealing genuine uncertainty beneath.
"We've been building something this whole time," I said. "This just makes it official. Structured. Safe for both of us."
She reached for the folder, then pulled her hand back.
"What if I don't want to sign it?"
"Then you don't," I said simply. "The contract only works if you choose it, if you want what I'm offering enough to accept the structure that comes with it."
"And if I don't sign?"
The question hung between us, heavy with implication. If she didn't sign, did I let her go? Send her back to the streets with the Morozov contract still on her head?
"Then we maintain the current arrangement," I said, though the thought of having her here but not having her made my chest tight. "I keep you safe from the Morozovs, you follow basic household rules, and we pretend there's nothing else between us."
"Pretend," she repeated, laughing bitterly. "Right. Because that's working so well. I'm sitting here in soaked punishment clothes, you're hard enough to cut glass, and we're pretending there's nothing between us."
She was right about my physical state—I'd been half-hard since walking in to find her gloriously defiant, fully hard since she'd admitted to continuing to touch herself. The evidence was obvious despite my controlled posture, and Eva's eyes kept flicking to it with interest that made everything worse.
"The contract provides framework for what's already happening," I said, needing to establish some control over this conversation. "Rules for your safety, protocols for punishment that won't leave you aroused and unsupervised, clear expectations for both of us."
"And if I sign it?" She leaned forward, the movement making the ruined shirt slide further. "What happens to me? Do I become your property? Your Little? Your responsibility forever?"
"For ninety days initially," I corrected, though forever was what I wanted. "With option to renegotiate or renew. You become my Little, I become your Daddy, and we build something that keeps you safe while giving you the structure you're begging for every time you break a rule just to see if I'll notice."
Bear chose that moment to demand attention, nosing at Eva's hand until she petted him. The normalcy of it—my dog, my Little-to-be, my apartment that smelled like sex and possibility—made everything feel both surreal and absolutely right.
"We'll review the contract together," I said, standing with effort given my physical state. "But first, you need to change out of those ruined clothes and clean up. We'll do this properly—negotiation requires clear heads, not post-orgasm haze and arousal-soaked clothing."
"And my punishment?" she asked, standing as well, the height difference between us suddenly pronounced. "For coming during corner time?"
I moved close enough to feel her breath catch, close enough to smell her arousal mixed with sweat and defiance. "We'll deal with your disobedience after we handle the paperwork. Once you're officially mine, once you've agreed to the rules, then you'll face consequences for breaking them. Real consequences, not the game we played this morning."
Her pupils dilated at that, breath coming faster. "What kind of consequences?"
"The kind that will make you think twice before disobeying again," I promised, then stepped back before I could do something stupid like kiss her. "Go shower. Put on one of my shirts and nothing else. We have paperwork to review."
She stood there for a moment, clearly wanting to protest or push further. Then she nodded, padding toward the bathroomon bare feet, punishment clothes leaving damp spots on the floor.
"Dmitry?" she called from the hallway.
"Yes?"
