My hand tightened on the oh-shit handle. “And you want me to agree to that?”
“You need to know what you’re getting yourself into. We need to draw the line between our sessions and reality because I’m losing it with you.”
I looked out the window, and he reached out and took my hand, bringing it to his lips. The gesture was so chivalrous and in contrast with what he was saying.
“I promise I won’t do it if you’re good.”
“I don’t know how to be good,” I whispered.
He laughed. We passed under a streetlight, and I saw the smile still on his lips. “Either way I’ll be a happy man. I just want you to give it a chance.”
“How did you learn all this?” I asked after a while. We’d discussed his need for control, but I realized we hadn’t gotten to the crux of it.
His jaw tightened, and I shrugged. “The other day you didn’t really answer how you got into this lifestyle, and here I am learning about it from you.”
It took him a moment to respond, and when he did, his voice was wary. “I met a woman a few years back. I wouldn’t call it a relationship, but we went out a few times. She was into it and I tried a few things.”
I was surprised at the surge of jealousy I felt. “But it didn’t continue?”
“No, Amy, it did not.”
I knew I was being nosy, but I didn’t care. “Why not?”
He shifted. “Because at the time, I thought it was wrong. I felt guilty.”
“But now you don’t.”
“I was in my late-twenties then. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”
I hadn’t. I crossed my arms, suddenly feeling very petulant. I kicked off my sandals and stretched my bare legs up onto the dashboard, letting my dress fall to my waist. Dallon inhaled through his teeth but I pretended not to notice.
“So she asked you to spank her and tie her up and stuff?”
“Pretty much.”
I opened my legs wider, pressing the sole of my foot against the cool surface of the windshield. “And then after that, you started tying up random chicks.”
It took him a moment to respond. “Yes.”
“But if I give you what you want, for some reason you’ll stick with me.” I didn’t try to hide my sarcasm.
Suddenly, Dallon veered off the road, pulling onto the shoulder. I quickly removed my legs from the dashboard. I’d gone too far.
He slammed the car into park, swiveled to face me. “You’re trying my patience, Amy.”
I didn’t say I was sorry. I couldn’t speak; my heart was beating in my ears.
He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a black, silk tie. “Give me your wrists.”
“What?”
“Now, Amy. We’re solving your dilemma.”
With a click, the interior light turned on, and I could see Dallon clearly. He was pissed. And he was waiting, tie in hand.
I put out my arms, and he moved quickly, roughly, and bound them tightly. It hurt a little but I didn’t even wince.
Out of nowhere, there was a flash. Dallon held his phone up—in front of me was a picture of a wide-eyed girl with bound arms, not unlike some of the photos I’d found in his studio.
Then he yanked my seatbelt tight, pulling me back against the seat.
***
Dallon parked in his stall and cut the engine. Without a word, he climbed out of the car, slinging his jacket over his shoulder.
Was he serious? Using my bound hands, I struggled to undo my seat belt and pushed open the door, clambering after him. He was waiting for me, one hand holding his jacket over his shoulder, the other shoved in his pocket.
“You look good, Miss Clair.”
“Are you going to leave me like this?”
He smirked. “I’m tempted to leave you that way forever.”
I glanced around the empty parking lot. “What if someone sees me?”
“I’m counting on it. That will teach you a lesson, won’t it?” He began walking away, pausing briefly to look over his shoulder. “Are you coming or staying in here tonight?”
I quickly rushed after him, panic rising. “Please, Dallon. Undo me. I’m… embarrassed.”
“First of all, you aren’t addressing me in a very respectful manner. Second of all, after the way you behaved earlier, you should be embarrassed.”
He pressed the button for the elevator and then pulled out his phone to check something. Beside him, I was still glancing around anxiously, while simultaneously using my hair as a curtain to hide my face from the security cameras.
The elevator pinged and a young couple stepped out, laughing and talking rapidly. Both of them were blonde, the woman wearing large hoop earrings and stiletto heeled boots.
I halted mid-step, my eyes wide, but they continued right past us, completely unaware.
Dallon chuckled as I rushed into the elevator and scooted halfway behind him, trying to hide my wrists. “Looks like you’re safe, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t respond. The elevator doors closed but it didn’t move.
“Push the button, Amy.”
His tone was cold, clipped. I was in too much of a rush to argue; I darted forward to push the number for Dallon’s floor, rushed back to my position.
The elevator began its smooth climb and stopped at the next floor, the parking level about Dallon’s. The door opened and an elderly couple stepped on.
I tensed, grasping the waistband at the back of his pants desperately.
“Good evening,” Dallon greeted them warmly.
“Good evening,” they replied.
The woman looked at me curiously and Dallon put his arm around my shoulder, at the same time draping his coat over me like one would a cold girlfriend. She gave him a smile as if to say you’re so sweet.
When they got off on their floor and we were alone again, I leaned into him, pressing my head against his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m sorry.”
Dallon gave me a reassuring squeeze as the doors opened. Together, we walked to his door and into the apartment. He stormed straight to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine, gulped it down.
I kicked off my sandals and joined him, carefully climbing onto the breakfast bar.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” His eyes were downcast as he refilled his own.
“Yes, please. Sir.”
He poured a second glass and passed it to me. I took a shaky sip with both hands.
“You infuriate me, Amy,” he said softly.
“I’m sorry I made you angry.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I should punish you now. But I won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because there is something more important to deal with—that you still think I will tire of you.”
Yes, that old thing. I looked away into the dining room, knowing that I should tell him I no longer thought that, even if I did. But nothing came out.
Dallon drained the rest of his wine and put his glass down with authority. Then he strode past the bar, hoisted me off my seat and over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I cried out.
In response, he merely spanked me and kept walking to his bedroom. There, he deposited me in front of his bed.
“Turn around.”
I turned to face the bed, and he unzipped my dress, pulled it over my shoulders. The straps couldn’t pass my bound wrists, so he left my dress hanging in front of me and moved to my bra, undoing it and leaving it hanging in front of me also.
“Climb up onto the bed. I’m going to take you from behind.”
I picked up my dress and bra and got onto the bed, dropping them in front of me. I felt like burying my face into them and hiding. Dallon climbed up behind me, caressing my back softly.
“Now, Amy, I’m going to fuck you. Hard. Afterward we’ll see if I’m still interested.”
I felt him at the opening to my sex and then he shoved inside me.
Grasping my hips tightly, he began pounding into me relentlessly so that I was forced to lean further forward onto my elbows to support myself, my face hidden in my dress after all. He was so deep, his balls hitting my clit with every thrust.
I’d never had sex that way before, and I was surprised by how much I liked it, by how aroused I was by Dallon’s anger.
“You’re not allowed to come. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Suddenly, he grabbed a fist of my hair and pulled taut, holding me in place.
“Fuck, Amy,” he groaned and came apart, leaning forward to bite me gently on the shoulder. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
***