Page 47 of Red Velvet

"I'm glad you're showing interest in our proposition," my brother says as our dishes are cleared, bringing the conversation back to business as soon as the unwritten rules of dinner invitations allow for it. "We're ready to answer every question you may have for us."

"And we might have some of our own," Damon interjects, casting me a somewhat dark look. He's sitting to my left, his wife to my right, obviously sharing her sister's love for white wine, as she's about to finish her second glass. She's clearly tense and nervous, more so than I would expect from a dinner hostess who didn't even cook herself. I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with me, or with me and her sister. Not knowing drives me insane, and I wish I could just straight-out ask her. But every time our eyes meet, there's nothing but tense emptiness in hers, nothing that would tell me anything that could give me a hint of some sort.

Damon must notice my gaze lingering on his wife, as he clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. I turn back in a nonchalant motion, throwing him an unfazed look to let him know he has nothing to fucking worry about. It makes sense for him to suspect dishonest intentions in a man's attention to his woman, especially if he's cast from the same mold as I am. He's protective of her, more so than a regular husband would be—because he's not only her husband, he's also her Dom, I'm sure. We recognize our kind when we see it, just like we can sense on a woman that she's hiding a submissive side deep within.

I wonder what it would be like to sit at a table with Lila like this. To be out in public with her, show her off as mine in a regular, almost innocent way.

I never made outings part of the deal when acquiring a new girl to play with, but with her, I might make an exception.

After all, it's my game, my rules. I can do whatever the fuck I want with her, and if that includes sitting at a dinner table like these preposterous newlyweds, so be it.

Besides, I'm sure I can find a way to tailor an evening like that in a fashion that'll make it anything but conventional.

Chapter 25

Lila

A box with a red ribbon awaited me at my front door when I came home from work. A card attached to the box stated nothing but my first name, which means he didn't send it but must’ve brought it himself—or had someone do it for him. I took the box upstairs with a silly smile on my face and a heart that was doing somersaults in anticipation.

Still, when I got to my apartment, it took me a few moments to gather the courage to open it. My hands were shaking when I slowly unlaced the ribbon, carefully placing it next to the box before I lifted the lid.

Inside, I found a little note that simply saidWear this tonight. If you dare.

A piece of red velvet fabric was wadded up underneath the note, hiding something that made my heart skip.

A collar.

Made of stainless steel, less than half an inch wide and with a little ring attached at the front and a lock at the back. I was careful when I picked it up, holding the collar to my face as if it’s the most valuable thing I've ever touched.

He wants me to wear this. For him. What does that mean? Did something change? Did he decide we're taking our relationship to the next level?

Relationship. Why do I keep calling it that?

I have little time to contemplate, because I need to get ready for our date. He told me to wear "something nice" tonight, something suitable for a place outside The Velvet Rooms, something a little more modest than what he usually wants to see on me.

That and the collar around my neck. If I dare.

I almost worry that the dress I picked—a maroon cocktail dress I wore for our last office party—could be a little too modest for his taste. I feel like a wallflower in it, now that I got a taste of his kinky world.

The collar is the last thing I put on before leaving the house, watching myself in the mirror as I close the lock at the back, the cold steel tightening against my throat. It feels weird and very prominent, enclosing my neck with a lot more weight than any other necklace I wore before.

It also nullifies the modesty of my dress, making me feel just as naughty and excited as my next-to-naked outfit during our last date. I walk down the stairs out to the street, where I know he'll already be waiting for me.

The smile on his face wipes away any previous concern that I would disappoint him. He nods with approval as I walk toward him, taking my face between his hands and placing a kiss on my lips that speaks of deep affection.

"I knew it would suit you perfectly," he comments, hooking his index finger in the ring and pulling softly.

I reciprocate his smile, uttering the only words I can think of. "Thank you, sir."

An appreciative smile graces his handsome face, but when he stretches out his hand, palm up, I don’t know how to respond other than with a confused look.

"The key," he states. "Give it to me."

I hesitate for a moment, knowing I’d be giving him a lot more than just a simple key. I’d grant him with power and trust. Power to decide how long I’m to wear the collar, and the trust to rely on him to take it off once we’re done with our date.

He raises an eyebrow, a quiet gesture of urgency that’s impossible for me to resist. I rummage through my purse until I find what he asked for, placing the tiny key in his open palm.

"Good girl."

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