Halfway there, she moves my hand so it's over the ball and slides the leash around my fingers.
When I bought the collar and leash, I did it because it was expected. I never imagined she would like it or encourage me to use it.
How will ma belle be okay with just me when this is no longer in our life? I can't get the thought out of my mind. I wish I had an answer or could put my fear at rest. Then I glance toward her.
Her eyes burn with anticipation and lust.
I wrap the leash around my fist and increase the tension, and approval moves into those eyes. Her lips blow heated breath.
The disdain for myself grows. My pulse flares, lighting up my cells, moving my blood forcefully through my body.
I shouldn't like this.
But I do.
Everything ma belle does, whether innocent or intentionally seductive, creates a need within me. She knows it. There is a satisfied confidence within her expression. It blooms whenever she morphs into this world. I've watched it develop over the last few months. And like all the parts of her, it turns me on.
I wish it didn't.
Another Global Leader from the Middle East, who I've met a few times, walks toward us. I'm not ready to deal with him or any of them yet.
With no notice, I move ma belle against the brick wall, pressing my body against her.
She gasps.
In French, I murmur in her ear, "Tell me you wore crotchless panties."
"Yes," she breathes, speaking in French as well. Her chest rises and falls faster against mine.
"And are they leather?"
"Yes. I wanted the scent of you on my skin and not theirs. I smelled limes while getting ready."
I groan. Ma belle always claims I remind her of leather and limes. I don't smell it. But she insists.
I inhale her peaches and coconut scent. She tried to wear perfume once, and I stopped her. I'm not sure if the Global Leader passed us or not, but I no longer care. I continue murmuring in her ear, "You leave me no choice but to cross our boundaries if you do not tell me no, right now."
"Please," she whispers. "I need it. I need you in the room."
I position my face in front of hers. I missed it earlier. There is fear in her eyes. It's hidden under layers of confidence and lust.
Her eyes glisten. Her lip trembles. "Please, Malin. I need the strength of us."
How could I have missed it?
Be the man she needs tonight.
I graze my lips against hers. "Then you shall have it." I spin and guide her into the room.
When we step in, my eyes need to adjust. The room is a quarter full. Candles provide the only light. Seductive music plays. The stage is set up, and ma belle freezes and stares. She shudders.
I scan the room and lead her to the corner sitting area. Two candles burn on end tables. I pick them up and blow them out.
I didn't see him, but the President steps out of the shadows and in front of us.
"Kneel," he growls.
Emilia obeys, and her head tilts toward my feet.
"Look at me," he barks.
Defiance and fear fill her blues.
He leans down and lowers his voice. "I will break you. Over and over, I will make you mine."
I move Emilia's chin so she's looking at me. "You forget who bought her. And I already broke her."