I glance down at myself, enjoying the way the silk feels against my skin. This is not something I would have ever bought for myself. How did Victor know my size? The stairs creak and my heart leaps into my throat.
Hurriedly making my way to his desk, I fill my lungs, kneel on the pillow that is very comfortable, and place my hands on my knees like Victor showed me. Slowly exhaling to calm the rollercoaster in my stomach, I tilt my head down and look at the ground. The office door opens and I have to swallow several times to wet my dry throat. Where I’m kneeling, I can’t be seen from the door.
Shit. Should I have opened the door before kneeling?The rollercoaster in my stomach is about to go off the rails as his footsteps draw close. Fighting the urge to look up to see him, I remind myself how he instructed me, so I keep my eyes cast down. When he makes it to the edge of his desk, the urge grows stronger.
The heat of his gaze is like a physical touch. The longer he looks at me, the more I want to look up, but this feels like a test and I’m going to pass it. When he moves the chair, I jump, startled because he didn’t make any noise. Still, I keep my head down.
He sits and places his hand on top of my head for a heartbeat. Then he runs his fingers through my hair. The tips of his fingers graze my neck and back as he strokes all the way to the end of myhair, only to start the process over again. With each stroke of his fingers, I relax more and more. After a few minutes, he stops and I almost look up at him, but catch myself just in time.
“Treasure, look at me,” he commands. I look up at him, grateful he’s allowing me to. He’s changed from his slacks and button-up shirt to pajama pants with no shirt. Swallowing at the sight of his chest, my nipples harden, and now I’m fighting the urge not to rub my thighs together as I look into his eyes. He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip. “You did so well.”
He turns the chair slightly so he can lean down and kiss me. I want to push into his touch and demand more. Who knew this would turn me on so much? When he pulls back, disappointment churns in my stomach.
He rubs his thumb along my bottom lip again. “The next time you come in here, don’t close the door unless I tell you to.”
“Yes, Sir.”
What if one of the staff is up here and sees me?Reminding myself he has my best interest at heart, I don’t argue with him. Instead, I choose to trust him. He smiles at me.
“I’m so proud of you, treasure.”
His praise fills my heart with so much joy. “Thank you, Sir.” I wish I could express to him how much his words mean to me.
He takes my hand. “Stand up, treasure.”
Pushing up from the ground, I stand before him. Victor turns his chair and widens his legs, pulling me so I’m between them. His hands rest on my thighs and even though they’re on top of the silk, they might as well be touching my skin. Heat settles in my stomach and slowly travels to my core, making me want to rub my thighs together again.
“How are you feeling?” he asks as he looks up at me.
Swallowing and taking a deep breath, I tell him the feeling that’s the easiest. “I feel wanted.”
“You are. What else?”
My breathing quickens at his quick response. He didn’t even hesitate, and he wants me to continue. “I feel sexy,” I whisper. “For the first time in my life.”
“You are,” he replies. I inhale slowly. “I’m telling you the truth.”
“I believe you.” And I do. “I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone since mom.” The slight sign of relief on his face makes me pause. He was concerned I wouldn’t trust him.How am I ever going to be able to give him up when the time comes? I want to keep him forever.
“Come here, treasure.” He pulls me onto his lap and adjusts me so I’m cradled in his arms. Laying against his bare chest, I lift my hand to touch him, but pause.
“Can I touch you?”
Not knowing what the protocol is, it’s safest to ask. This is a learning process, so he’d correct me if I’m wrong, but from my understanding, it’s best to ask in situations when I’m not sure. He rubs his lips against my forehead.
“Yes.” Running my fingers over his collarbone, his shoulder, and down his arm, I’m tempted to kiss his scars like he did mine. “I saw where you wrote in your journal. I’m going to read it now. Okay?”
My throat closes up at the thought of him reading it with me here, but nod. “Okay.”
“Treasure, I’m not telling you. I’m asking if it’s okay. I am going to read it, but I understand if it makes you uncomfortable for me to read it in front of you.”
Just with him giving me a choice makes me feel better. “I’m okay with you reading it.”
He kisses my forehead. “I want you to sit here quietly while I read and let me hold you.”
With a nod, I settle against his chest again. He opens his laptop, gets situated, then he begins to run his fingers throughmy hair as I return to running my fingers along his beard, neck, chest, and arm.
Thinking about what I wrote, there isn’t anything I’m afraid of him reading. I wrote about my weekend and the feelings that arose in me. It felt that everyone else seemed so comfortable in their skin while I still struggled, but they could probably say the same thing about me. We let people see what we want them to see. I told him how I loved that he had Leo go to Atlanta. While some women would feel it was controlling, it made me feel safe.
