Page 10 of Dancing With Distraction

“Do you get a commission?” I ask as her fingers secure the final button. She keeps them there against my chest and looks up at me. The blush from earlier has faded, replaced by a fire burning in her eyes. She feels the pull as much as I do. Her hands then glide up over my chest, and my breathing hitches, matching hers. I don’t allow women to touch me unless I give them permission, but I don’t stop her as she pulls the collar up on the shirt.

“Tie?” she whispers, producing it. I don’t answer as she places it carefully around my neck. We’re so close, I can feel her body brushing against my own, and I have to clench my fists at my sides to stop from grabbing a fistful of that silky hair and explaining my rules. She ties it expertly, pushing the knot a little tighter than necessary. “Yes, I get a commission.”

When she steps away to retrieve the jacket, I release a long breath and shake out my shoulders. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt a pull so strong, and I can’t deny I want to explore it. My father’s voice enters my head, bringing me back down to Earth. I’m so close to getting everything I’ve worked hard for, and delaying Vivian for much longer would raise questions from both her father and my own.

Victoria holds up the jacket, but I’m already unfastening the shirt. “I’ll take it,” I say briskly, “in every colour.”

She frowns, watching as I whip the shirt off and practically throw it at her. “Every colour?” she repeats.

“Did I stutter?” I snap, glaring at her.

She huffs, shaking her head in annoyance. “Fine, whatever.” She walks out, leaving me to dress.

When I step out the changing room, she has her back to me. I place my business card on the glass desk, and she turns, eyeing it but making no move to take it. “Have them sent here.”

I produce my Centurion bank card, not asking for the final bill as she rings it up. Eying the card in annoyance, she hands me the machine to enter my PIN, then she rips off the receipt, clipping it to my order.

“Do you really need five suits?” she asks.

“A word of advice,” I say, fastening my jacket. “Stay clear of me, Victoria. You’re playing with fire.”

She scoffs. “You came to my place of work.”

I ignore her attitude and leave without another word.

Dmitry

As I climb back into the car, I am aware that I need an outlet now more than ever. Someone should pay for the way my body is responding to Victoria because I have this overwhelming need to take back control and it’s burning me up inside.

Marshall eyes me suspiciously through the mirror, and his look says a thousand words. He knows me, and he knows I’m struggling to calm my inner beast.

“Cancel my meetings,” I bark. It’s time for Vivian to pay for her transgressions over the last few days. “Take me home to the manor.”

Marshall complies without so much as a word. He’s obedient, just the way I like everything in my life.

Taking my mobile from my breast pocket, I fire a quick text to Vivian with one word.

Me: Now.

She knows our agreement, which is to drop whatever she’s doing, make her way to the dungeon, and be ready for whatever punishment I decide is suitable.

Part of me hopes she’ll push my buttons so I can get rid of this craving to go back into Harrods and take Victoria right there in the changing room.

Placing my hand on the door handle, I take a steady, calming breath, tightly clenching the cool metal to compose myself. I need to have full control in Dom mode—it’s one of the rules of our agreement. There’s a little voice in the back of my mind telling me I shouldn’t be going in here when I’m feeling this pent-up. I close my eyes briefly, gaining some self-restraint. This is my domain. It’s my territory to control. With every touch, every whisper, every fibre, I’ll use her body as my outlet.

Opening the door, I find Vivian isn’t in her position. Instead, she’s standing, hands on her hips, with defiance in her eyes. I sneer at her boldness, but a thrill shoots through me. This is exactly the excuse I need to let loose.

“Really, Dmitry? I was in the middle of cocktails and lunch with the girls.”

I circle her, taking in her curves but not saying a word. It adds to the trepidation that I know she’s feeling right now, knowing how much I hate her testing my authority.

An exasperated breath leaves her as she stands tall in her red lace bra and thong. I lean close to her ear and emit a low growl, letting her know I don’t appreciate her lack of respect. Her skin breaks out in goosebumps, so it has the desired effect.

I go over to the drawers beside the bed and carefully select a knife. There’s an array of clean equipment laid out for my use, but for now, this is what I need to instil the right amount of fear. Keeping eye contact, I cut away her bra and then her thong in one swift movement. She gasps, and I see the venom in her glare. These were probably expensive garments, but she doesn’t say a word. She knows her place, and the anticipation of what’s to come will stop her opening that rebellious little mouth of hers.

“Take your position,” I command, and she kneels on the floor with her hands behind her back. There’s a glint of confrontation in her eyes as she refuses to look at the floor, and I smirk at her spirit.

I remove the saffron braided flogger hanging on the wall by the side of the bed and, pulling it back, I lash it across her breast. As the blades make contact with soft tissue, the sound vibrates around the room, bringing me instant satisfaction.

---