But I can't. Not yet. She needs to learn this lesson first.
I'm reviewing a proposal for an investment in one of my businesses in Boston when I hear a soft sound, barely audible, that makes my entire body go still.
I don't look up. I don't give any indication that I've noticed. But every nerve in my body is suddenly alert, focused entirely on her.
She's moving. Slowly, hesitantly, but she's moving.
I hear the soft brush of fabric against hardwood, the quiet sound of her breathing, the almost imperceptible shift of weight. My hands tighten on the arms of my chair, my pulse quickening,but I force myself to remain still, to keep my eyes on the computer screen even though I'm not seeing anything anymore.
She's crawling.
The realization sends a jolt of arousal through me, my cock stiffening just at the thought. After hours of kneeling, after all her defiance and resistance and stubborn pride, she's crawling across my office floor to me.
She's obeying.
I lift my head to look at her, and the sight nearly destroys my control.
Mara, on her hands knees, moving stiffly toward me as she crawls toward the desk, her long dark hair hanging around her face. My cock throbs, my control fraying as I resist the urge to get up and go to her, to pin her to the floor, yank her leggings down, and thrust myself inside of her. This has to be finished the way I planned it. Shehasto learn her lesson, or she’ll try to run again.
I drink up every moment of her submission, the sight of it more intoxicating than any alcohol or drug. I watch her, silent, not wanting to shatter this moment. If something breaks it, she might retreat back into defiance, and I'll have to start this entire process over again.
This feels like the victory I've been working toward since the moment I brought her here.
She isn’t going toward the choker, I realize. She’s crawling around the desk, toward me. I turn to face the side of it, relaxed in my chair, a king on my throne, letting my queen crawl to me. Letting her prove her loyalty.
I hear the hitch in her breathing as she gets closer, see the flush on her cheeks and neck, and a smile crawls across my lips. She won’t admit it, but she’s turned on by this. Shewantsthis. This humiliation, this degradation, is turning her on. Part of her is aroused by the power dynamic, the surrender, the act of crawling across the floor to please me.
Maybe she doesn't even recognize it herself. But I can see it in the flush of her skin, in the way her breathing changes, in the subtle tells that give away her body's betrayal of her mind's resistance.
She wants this.
My heart is pounding so hard I'm surprised she can't hear it. My hand is gripping the desk so tightly my knuckles are white. Every muscle in my body is tense with the effort of maintaining control.
She disobeyed me by not going for the choker. But she crawled, as I ordered her to. Maybe there’s a compromise here. One that ends with both my pleasure and hers.
The thought surprises me. Compromise isn’t something that exists in my world; it’s not a part of the way someone like me operates. But maybe there’s a way to ensure she’s learned her lesson without throwing away the progress we’ve made because she didn’t follow my instructions to the letter.
A way that ends with my pleasure and hers.
She stops just in front of me, still on her hands and knees, eyes downcast at the floor, her raven hair hanging around her cheeks. "Good girl," I say softly, and I see her flinch at the words.
I lean forward and reach down, wrapping a hand in her hair. It’s as thick and soft as I thought it would be, when I first saw her, a luxurious sensation as it runs across my fingers. I tighten my fist in it, tugging her head up and her forward, and I see a flash of anger in her eyes before she gives in and lets me tug her between my opened legs.
“Let’s see if you’ve learned your lesson,kotenok,” I murmur. “Unzip my pants and take out my cock. It’s time I claim your sweet mouth. If you do as your told, and do it well, I’ll pleasure you in return.”
Her gaze is dark and resentful, but I can see the glimmer of arousal there. Her eyes flick to my groin, and I can see theway her pupils widen as she takes in the sight of my erection straining against my zipper. She wants me as much as I want her, only she’s fighting it, and I’m not.
I’ll break down her resistance a little more, today.
I reach down and cup her face, tilting it up toward me. "When you obey me, I take care of you."
I can see her processing this. She wants to refuse, wants to maintain her defiance, but she's also curious. She wants to know what I mean, what I'm offering, what it would feel like to surrender completely.
“I want you to suck my cock and swallow my cum,” I murmur, my thumb brushing across her lower lip. "And when you do, I'll give you pleasure in return. Do you understand?"
She nods. It’s a small, brief movement, but victory surges through me, hot and intoxicating. "Unzip my pants."
My hand is still fisted in her hair as she rises up on her knees, reaching for my belt. She fumbles with the buckle, her fingers clumsy with exhaustion, but eventually she gets it open. Then the button of my pants, then the zipper, each movement slow and deliberate.
