Groaning, she rolled onto her back, shifting carefully in deference to the soreness in her arms. And her legs, she realized with a wince.
Too much dancing, probably.
But as her mind replayed the events of the evening over again, realization slammed into her, forcing her eyes open as it knocked the air from her lungs.
Holy fuck. She’d finally lost her virginity.
And it had been awesome.
It had also been absolutely forbidden. Both her parents would completely lose their minds if they found out. Her dad, because she’d snuck into his club and slept with someone he likely considered a friend.
And her mother, well, because she’d snuck into her father’s club and let a man tie her up while he did unspeakable things to her body.
Guilt snuck in, jagged little claws digging into her chest as she forced herself up out of bed and into the bathroom of her hotel room. Layla Hargrove—she’d dropped the ‘Elliott’ pretty much the second the ink had dried on the divorce papers—had impressed many things upon her daughter over the span of her lifetime. But nothing quite as strongly as her belief that a woman should never, ever give a man power over her. Not for a single second.
But surely what she’d done last night with Master O didn’t count. She hadn’t given him any power, really, she’d simply given him a… modicum of control. And all the books she’d read always harped on the submissive being the one who ultimately held the power in any relationship.
So if you really thought about it, she’d had all the power the whole time, anyway.
Flipping the shower on, she stripped out of her dress from the night before while the water heated up, tossing the emerald silk aside. But when she reached for her panties only to find bare skin instead, embarrassment heated her cheeks at the memory of Master O stuffing them in his pocket, his green eyes sparkling with mischief while she pretended to take offense at his refusal to return them.
A man had her panties. A man whose name she didn’t even know.
It didn’t matter. Trying to shake off the guilt and unease, she stepped under the steaming spray, a soft groan slipping from her lips as the heat worked some of the lingering soreness from her muscles.
She’d made her choices. Even if they weren’t her mother’s, and even if her mother would, indeed, lose her fucking mind if she ever learned the truth, they had been her choices to make. And wasn’t that the whole damn point of raising a daughter to be strong and independent? To empower her to make her own choices, to lead the life she wanted to live?
Right. Exactly. So really, she was just being the woman her mother wanted her to be.
And besides, enjoying some kinky sex didn’t mean she was any less motivated to pursue the career she’d been working toward since she’d made up her mind as a teenager. It wasn’t like she’d met the man of her dreams and was planning to toss all that hard work out the window. She could be a submissive in the bedroom and still kick ass in the business world.
Right?
Right.
She kept the inner pep talk up through her shower, drying her hair, and slapping on a light coat of makeup before heading for the closet where she’d hung the dress Lottie had insisted on buying her for the after-wedding brunch. It was gorgeous, though insanely expensive, and she’d inwardly winced when Lottie had run her father’s credit card for the purchase.
Not that her father couldn’t afford it. Which was the entire problem. Her father, and by extension Aria and her mother, were all filthy rich. The kind of filthy rich other people justifiably railed against on a regular basis.
It helped that her father took care of his people. Even though she’d never stepped foot in his club before last night, he’d always been very open with her about his employment practices. Sharing the wages he paid—well above the minimum, and he assured her his staff all received generous tips and bonuses—as well as benefits, security measures, all the little things he did to ensure the people who worked for him were taken care of.
And it wasn’t just at the club, either. He very quietly owned several other businesses across the state, and the same standards applied to every single employee at every single enterprise.
So even though it still made her uneasy to spend far too much money on frivolous things like a dress she’d likely only ever wear once, she reminded herself that her father actually did things with his money to give back to the community, unlike others in their circles. Maybe there weren’t any ethical billionaires, but her father came pretty fucking close.
What about Master O? Her thoughts drifted back to him as she stepped into the deep green dress—because Lottie was nothing if not faithful to a theme—covered in hand-sewn flowers.
Was he as rich as her father? Richer? His presence at the club indicated he was at least ‘comfortably wealthy’ considering what they charged the paying members. Employees got a steep discount, but those who paid full price paid well.
But what about those businesses he’d mentioned last night? Did he take care of his people the way her father took care of his? Those were the kinds of questions she’d need answered if she was going to have a relationship with a man.
Pausing in front of the mirror where she was giving her makeup a last check, she frowned at her reflection.
Did she even want a relationship with a man like him?
You should know, I don’t date casually. If you’re with me, you’re mine, and that comes with rules. Expectations.
Last night that statement had seemed… sexy, in a dangerous kind of way. With her mind scrambled from the pleasure he’d forced on her over and over again, she probably would have agreed to anything.
