London meanders slowly through the room, taking in the lavish decor. She has a bewildered look on her stunning face, and it’s one I understand. Most women in her line of work aren’t afforded such luxuries. But the way I see it, a happy employee is a productive employee. And what makes women happier than playing dress up? Than having expensive clothes and costume jewelry and men throwing themselves at their feet? From my experience, not much.

London stalls in front of the antique trifold mirror in the corner. Her elegant form reflecting all around her. She stares at herself with a ghost-like expression. Right then, I realize there is so much more to this woman than meets the eye. I come to stand behind her, gently placing my hand on her waist. Her dark blue gaze lifts to meet mine. A moment of heavy silence passes. I give her the time she needs. Everything is new. I’m certain it’s not the first time her whole world has changed.

“Good?” I ask her reflection.

“Yes.” Her voice is soft but strong.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but whatever you need to feel comfortable, I’ll give it to you.”

London takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. I interpret she’s coming to terms with her new surroundings and acclimating herself one small step at a time. She turns to face me. She’s tall, five-foot-eight at least. Her nose comes just level with my chin. Her long burgundy hair cascades down her back in loose waves, and her smell—dear god, her smell—is like the beach. A pleasant reminder of home.

“When does my assessment start?” she inquires mildly yet seductively. Fucking hell. This woman has an aura about her I can’t deny. She owns the room without even trying. Before I can even think, I’m uttering the words, “Right now.”

With dark, encompassing eyes, she touches my chest, and I’m zapped with an electric shock of arousal. She runs her hands over my pecs and then down my arms, lowering herself onto her knees as she goes. That one small gesture makes me instantly hard. With confident fingers, she unbuttons my pants, skims her fingers over the bulge behind my zipper, then keeps moving south until she’s bowing at my feet. My insides go off like a fire alarm. A submissive. My heart beats against my chest as I drink in our two forms reflecting around us in the three-sided mirror.

Fuck, she was breathtaking when she walked into my house, but now, forehead pressed to the ground at my feet, she’s a goddess. Something unexpectedly shifts inside me. I have women at my beck and call at all times, but it’s been ages since I’ve really wanted one. Yearned for the person as much as the pleasure. In my line of work, emotion is a commodity you can’t dole out lightly. And I don’t. I care as much as I can without crossing a line, but with this woman, there might not even be a line. It may never have existed.

“Up,” I command her, and she rises to a sitting position on her knees. I take her chin between my fingers, tilting her face up. “I have a feeling you’re a very experienced girl”—I run my thumb along her bottom lip wantonly—“so show me what that pretty mouth can do.”

With just a bat of her eyes, she reaches for my zipper, and finishes what she started, removing both my jeans and underwear with one strong tug. Through the mirror, I watch my cock spring free directly in front of her mouth. I can see all angles of our position from the multiple reflections. London wraps her hand around my shaft and drops her head, drawing both my balls into her mouth. The unexpected sensation charges through my body. I lift onto my toes for a split second as she juggles the sensitive sac with her tongue. My broken attention jumps between the reflection in the mirror and the live event happening before me. The combination is a heady turn-on. After several elongated minutes of her worshiping my balls with her mouth and my cock with her hand, she shifts, releasing my scrotum before swallowing the entire length of my rock-hard length in one breath. I gasp as the head of my cock literally slides past her tonsils.Holy fucking shit. I latch onto her hair just to keep from falling forward as she deep throats me over and over again. Her lips kissing the skin at the base of my cock every single time. Watching, feeling, experiencing is over the top. I usually have expert control, but the unstoppable urge she’s bringing forth has an agenda of its own. To come right down her throat. To own this woman, this beautiful, majestic woman revering my cock boldly on her knees.

I huff as her head bobs in the mirror, and her mouth engulfs my throbbing erection continuously until I can’t see straight anymore. Every cell swimming through my body feels like a microscopic fireball.

“London,” my voice strains as I tighten my grip on her hair and thrust my hips brutally. She reads my signs, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks me into oblivion. My arm, thigh, and stomach muscles spasm as liquid fire shoots down my spine and snakes around my tailbone. She takes me deep one last time, shattering all my restraint. I spy in the reflection, through my hazy vision, her nails digging into my skin and her jaw stretched wide as I feed her my come. She’s the perfect fucking blend of beauty, ferocity, and obedience. A deadly combination for me. I hold her steadfastly as my cock twitches fitfully in her snug, hot mouth.

We’re both wheezing heavily by the time I allow her to unlatch herself from my softening dick. She drops submissively to her hands and knees panting, as I lean against the mirror and catch my breath. I can’t tear my eyes off her. I can’t stop thinking about the unfathomable way she awakened something dormant inside me with just the power of her mouth.

“How do I rank?” She lifts her head slightly, so only her eyes are visible.

I crack a smile. “Expert.”

I pull my pants up and refasten the button before I permit London off the floor. I could stare at her in that submissive position all goddamn day.

Crazy images of her naked body dressed up in a sexy leather playsuit, high heels, and a collar overrun my thoughts. Crawling to me acquiescently. Needy, lovesick, and aroused as I entice her with a soft voice and promises of dirty things to come.

“Stand up,” I order as I tower over her.

She rises gracefully to her feet. Once at her full height, I clutch her chin and scan over her swollen lips.

“Did I hurt you?” Her eyes widen as if the question is preposterous. As if no one had ever asked her that before. I wait patiently for my answer. Intuitively, I believe I’m going to need a lot of patience when it comes to London, although I’m not sure why yet.

She comes off confident, but the insecurity in her gaze gives all her secrets away.

“I’m fine.” She musters a reply.

“That’s not what I asked. I want to know if I hurt that unbelievably gorgeous and talented mouth.” I trace the outline of her lips with the tip of my index finger.

“No,” she utters softly.

“Good.” I fight the urge to kiss her. Now isn’t the time or the place. Although, soon, I’ll have her beneath me. Tied up and dripping wet. I’ll make her forget about the past, present, and future. There will only be me—us—and the deafening sound of ecstasy.

DID HE HURT ME?NOTeven close. That blowjob was a drop in the bucket compared to the things I’ve done and the abuse I’ve been subjected to. Maybe if I was normal, I might have found it erotic or even arousing. But sex is my job. It has been since I was sixteen.

Jett is everything Sasha told me he would be. Gorgeous, sexy, seductive, considerate. Sometimes dominant men intimidate me, but Jett has made me feel at ease. Not an easy feat for any human being.

He cups my face, moving it at his will as he looks over my features with his alight turquoise eyes. They’re the most beautiful shade of blue I’ve ever seen.

“Go back to your room and rest. Take a shower then be back here at six thirty. The other girls will help you get ready for tonight.”