Glancing down at her wrists, I note the bare skin and gloat inside. From what Dean Anderson said, owned submissives wear a band denoting their status. Without this, she’s fair game. But just to make sure, I want to find her in my system, read the words unowned next to her name.
My heart pounds in my chest as I set my phone in front of her. I want her so badly that every part of me aches with need. I don’t care about the pain in my balls right now. All that bite of agony is doing is making this little reunion all the sweeter.
“No need to announce my arrival,” I murmur, breaking the silent stalemate between us. “There’s nothing he can do to save you. That is unless you’re his property. Does he own you, little rabbit? Does he slide his fingers in that wet, hot cunt of yours and make you scream out to the heavens?”
The shake of her head is so small I almost miss it. Glancing down, I note the plain black skirt as it flounces around her knees. How easy it would be to set her on this desk and fuck her brains out, releasing the tension building up inside of me.
I’ve already locked the door, so there’s no way anyone will walk in on us. The dean is the head of this whole damned secret society, so he probably won’t tell me to stop. The only thing keeping me from forcing her to her knees to suck my cock is those stupid rules.
I need to see her limits. I need to see if she’s even compatible with me. Opening the app, I watch in amusement as she drags her eyes away from my face to look at the screen.
“Find your name.”
“Wh-what makes you even think that I’m here? I don’t know what this is. I’ve never seen it before in my life.”
The lies drip from her lips so prettily, but it’s still a lie, and lies have to be punished. “Oh, little rabbit. I so wish you told me the truth.”
Reaching out, I grab her by the back of her neck and haul her toward me before caging her in my arms. She squirms but keeps quiet. At any moment, she can cry out for Dean Anderson, but she doesn’t. She likes this. She wants this. At least, part of her does.
For a moment, as I look down into those eyes, I wonder if maybe I have the wrong girl. There’s no doubt she’s the dancer from Malum, but was she the girl I saw kneeling at my initiation? The eyes are the same. That bright, brilliant blue laced with a hint of indigo.
A fancy pool with spots of shadow.
My fingers glide up her body, pausing as I hover over her breasts. Her nipple puckers up beneath the thin material of her shirt. Is she even wearing a bra? I stop there, waiting for her to tell me no, waiting for her to scream rape or assault, but she doesn’t.
She looks at me, her mouth parted as her breath fans my face. There’s a look in her eyes that’s hopeful, expectant, and needy. To test my theory, I pull away, noting the longing in her eyes as she drifts forward, following my hand.
With a smirk, I turn her around and push her face toward the desk. The surface is neat and uncluttered, allowing her body to stretch out over the gleaming wood, bringing her ass up in front of me. The skirt also rides up, giving me a glimpse of her creamy thighs.
“Tell me no,” I growl in her ear, positioning my lower half at her ass so she can feel the hard steel of my erection against her body. “Tell me to stop. I won’t do it, but now’s your chance to beg.”
Was that a moan that just came out of her lips? It wasn’t either stop or no, that’s for sure. Shoving my phone under her face, I once more open the app. “Find your fucking name, rabbit. You’ve already lied to me once. Don’t make things worse for yourself.
“Pl-please. I -.”
“Save your pleas for your prayers and your priests. You will not find any mercy here. Find. Your. Fucking. Name. Or do I need to motivate you some other way?”
Without giving her a chance to respond, I wedge my foot in between hers and knock her legs open, giving me complete access. I reach in between her legs and rub at the gusset of her panties, smiling at how damp they already are.
“Such a needy little rabbit,” I murmur, feeling for the tight nub of her clit through the fabric. “Should I keep rubbing you here?”
An eternity passes before she nods her head. Triumphant, I pull away and slap my hand against her ass, startling a squeak out of that pretty mouth of hers. “How soundproof are these walls?”
“V-very, sir.”
“Good.”
Flipping her skirt up, I hook my thumbs around the band of her pale, pink panties and slide them down as far as they will go. Her pussy is soaked, glinting up at me in the light of the office.
I reach back down and nearly groan at the silken heat as I slide my fingers back and forth over her lower lips. “What do you think the dean will do if he sees you like this, legs spread for me as I touch you at your desk. Do you think he’ll watch? Maybe join in? Do you want him to?”
Unable to resist any more, I shove a finger into her and groan as her inner walls clamp down. Her own breathless moans fill my ears as she tries to pull away but is impeded by the desk.
“If you want more of this, then you’ll find your name. Now.”
This time, her body moves, bursting forth as she reaches out to grab my phone. I’m not going to let her come. Liars don’t get orgasms. But I will play with her, teasing her, learning her body.
I keep my finger still, lodged deep inside her as she types in her name. Shelaine Gallagher. The name ripples over my body, burrowing itself into my brain. It’s fitting for her. It suits her. My little Shelaine.
Pulling the phone away, I look through her stats as her hips begin to move, humping my finger in a desperation that takes my breath away. Even when fucking Lana and Parker, it wasn’t like this. We all enjoyed each other, but they didn’t seem to crave me. Not like her. Not like my Shelaine. And that’s when everything stops. Not only is she unowned, but many of her kinks also match up with mine. Well, not directly, but they’re not listed as hard limits.
So many things litter her wants to try section, and many of them I’m more than happy to oblige. The fact that knife play is listed in this section makes my heart soar. The things in her hard limits are not things I enjoy anyway. I have no desire to cover her in my piss or shit, but she will be covered in my cum.
“Seems like you’re an orphaned little rabbit. Shall I take you? Claim you as mine?”
Dean Anderson explained the claiming process, and I was more than willing to drag her down to the altar and defile her right now. Unfortunately, it was a process. It wasn’t something I could just do. It takes planning.
When she doesn’t answer me, that hurt part of my heart cracks open for a brief second. Does she not even want me? Her body does. Her body is screaming for me to possess her. Growling low in my throat, I pull my finger out and smack my hand across her ass.
Now that I know impact isn’t a hard limit, I can spank her, cane her, flog her, anything I need to do to bring her back into line. Her ass jiggles as I smack one side and then the other. This is tame compared to what I want to do to her, but right now is neither the time nor the place.
Since I know her name, I can track her, watch her through the cameras in her room. When the timing is right, I’ll pounce. The skin beneath my hand turns a nice rosy pink, but it’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough.
Dropping my hands, I unbuckle my belt and drag it through the loops. It’s nowhere near as thick as the one I have back at my house, but it will certainly leave a mark. Doubling it over, I hold my hand down at the base of her back and let the leather swing. It whistles through the air before crashing down on her wiggling backside.
Her soft wail is music to my ears, and seeing that strip of red across her ass cheeks has my cock standing at attention. I’ll see to myself once I’m done with her. I want to make this quick and leave an impression.
Pulling back, I let the belt swing again and groan as red blossoms across her ass. Her tears begin in earnest, but we’re just getting started. Once I own her, she'll be sobbing for me every night. Whether it's for my cock or for me to stop, she will cry. I want her dressed in nothing but her tears, bare to my gaze, frightened and aroused by the things I have planned.