Page 22 of Filthy Business
It was done.
She was mine.
Exclusively. All. Fucking. Mine.
“What now?” she asked, sliding the contract and pen back across the table.
I yanked my thoughts away from my dark, obsessive claim.
“It’s up to you, sweetheart. I’ll arrange for the movers to come, pack, and relocate you to your new apartment over the next few days. I know the contract states two in-person meetings with one overnight, but you’re welcome to stay with me until everything’s set up. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other better.”
“I’d like that,” she said, sipping her coffee.“Maybe we can begin experimenting.”
Whips, chains, and filthy sex came to mind.
I swallowed and cleared my throat.“What would you like to start with?”
“I want to be tied to your bed with your expensive ties and fucked so hard that I think of you every time I sit my ass down in the office,” she said, rubbing her legs together.
I picked up my coffee and drank it in a few gulps. The burn was delicious—because it assured me this was real. Iris was in my apartment. She wanted me to tie her down and fuck her like a beast.
“Let me show you to my bedroom,” I said, standing.“You can pick the ties.”
She rose too, kicking off her heels with a soft clatter.
“Lead the way, Daddy,” she said with a smile.
Hearing that word on her lips made something primal in me stir. I’d written it into the contract, but words on paper meant nothing compared to the way she said it now—warm, teasing, and utterly mine.
I stepped around the table and scooped her up into my arms.
“My baby doesn’t need to walk to the bedroom.”
The delight on her face was enough for me. I carried her to my bedroom and kicked the door open. Setting her gently on her feet, I stepped over to the closet and pulled it open.
“You may choose two ties.”
She wandered in, trailing her fingers over the rows of suits. A few steps further, she reached the rack of belts and ties. Her fingertips skimmed a brown leather belt.
“Those are for when you’re a brat. Move on to the ties.”
She gave me a sly look, then reached behind her and unzipped her dress. It slid to the floor in a whisper of silk, revealing cream lace knickers and a matching bra.
“Is this bratty enough for you, Daddy?” she said, glancing over her shoulder.
My eyes travelled slowly down her bare back, stopping at the high curve of her ass—firm and barely concealed by lace.
“Pick your ties,” I rasped, already yanking my shirt free from my trousers.
She turned back to the ties, her fingers hovering before selecting a dark navy silk one and a burgundy with faint diagonal stripes.
“These two,” she said, without looking at me—voice calm, but her breathing had quickened.
I toed off my shoes and shrugged out of my shirt, letting it drop behind me. By the time I’d undone my belt and slipped free of my trousers, I was down to just my boxers—thick, hard, and pulsing behind the fabric.
“Onto the bed, sweetheart.”
She obeyed instantly, climbing up onto the mattress and resting on her knees, watching me with hooded eyes.
