Page 29 of Preferential Treatment

She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to come or not. On the one hand, making him lick his own mess off the floor had its appeal. But on the other, she hadn’t yet rewarded him for his good behavior over the last few days, and the urge was still strong.

After a few more seconds of torture, in which he managed not to break, she let off the button. When she didn’t immediately press it again, Mikhail slumped over, gasping for breath, body trembling and gleaming with sweat. He remained on his knees, hands clasped behind his back. He was the perfect image of defeat. Vercingetorix at the feet of Caesar. Kate had always thought she’d make a good Emperor.

“Did you come?” she asked.

“No, knyazhna.”

She smiled. “Good boy. Since you’ve been so good, I will let you choose your reward.”

Before she could tell him his options, Mikhail raised his head to meet her gaze, expression earnest. “Come over, knyazhna. Let me please you. Let me feel you.”

She was hot and bothered enough that the idea of getting dressed up and leaving the comfort of her apartment no longer bothered her. Even so, she wasn’t going to hop to fulfill his request. She needed to make him work for it.

“You never gave me the credit card you promised. Why would I reward you with my body?”

“I’m sorry, knyazhna. I promise I’ll have it for you soon. It takes a few days to process—”

Kate scoffed dramatically. “That sounds like an excuse.”

“No, no, please, let me—let me take you shopping. I’ll buy anything you want.”

Kate hesitated, falling out of character for a moment. “People would see us together. You’re famous.”

Mikhail shrugged. “My name is famous. My face is not.”

Kate gave him a skeptical look. Maybe he wasn’t as immediately recognizable as a movie star, but he was still well-known.

“Trust me. The world only knows me in connection with my company. Out on my own, I am never recognized.”

She thought about it for a moment, and finally, relented. “Alright. Fine. You can buy me things.”

“Thank you, knyazhna. I’ll pick you up in… forty minutes?”

Kate nodded. She was about to end the call when a wicked idea flashed into her mind. “Make sure you leave the cockring on.”

Mikhail’s gaze bored into hers through the phone screen, hot and dark and hungry. “Yes, knyazhna.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Stay in the car,” Mikhail instructed the driver when he saw Kate step out of her building.

The driver, Nick Korsch, nodded a silent acknowledgment.

“And put the divider up.”

As the soundproofed, opaque divider rose up between the front and rear seats, Mikhail stepped out of the vehicle and walked around to get Kate’s door. When she spotted him, she froze mid-step, gaze widening as she looked up and down his body. After a stunned beat, she jarred herself back into motion, smiling ruefully as she neared him.

“You were right about not being recognized,” she said.

Mikhail glanced down at himself. He was wearing jeans and a plain gray t-shirt beneath an old ski jacket. It was a far cry from how he dressed for the office. “I told you,” he said, letting himself relax.

She reached up, flicking the brim of his Cubs hat. “You never struck me as a ball cap kind of guy, but…”

“But what?”

She smiled, playful and light. That smile did strange things to his chest. “But it really works for you.”

He rubbed at his sternum, willing the giddy lightness away. “Why don’t I seem like a ‘ball cap kind of guy’?”

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