“See?” She pushes my hand off her mouth. “This is where you lose me with your caveman shit.”

“Language, please. And it’s not caveman shit, it’s necessary. The world is filled with unsavory characters, Grace. Especially those who would take advantage of you sexually. I will not take advantage of you. We can talk more about that later, if you agree to be faithful. But now that I’ve awakened your sexual curiosity, it’s my duty to ensure you don’t allow yourself to be drawn into another man’s influence.”

“But your influence is fine? How does that makes sense to you?”

“Because I’m famous and if you talked, you could ruin me. With or without a NDA, this is your hold over me. I’m trusting you to keep our life together private.”

“Secret, you mean.”

“If you prefer to use the word secret, by all means. But I prefer private. Something between the two of us.”

“Except the people across the hall, they’re in on it too.”

I bend her legs forward and slap her hard and quick across her exposed pu**y and then stick my fingers inside her, moving them in and out slowly as the shock wears off her face. “Did the people across the hall see you?”

“No,” she moans. “But they knew what was happening, and they knew it was me. So what’s the difference?”

“The difference is they will remember me being an ass**le, flipping them off. Not you on your knees with my dick in your mouth. Because that’s private. When I slap your pu**y, that’s private. When I pull your hair and come down your throat or on your br**sts”—I lower her legs again and look into her eyes—“or whatever else we do. All of that is private. I don’t want anyone to know about it.”

“Is what you want to do to me that disgusting?”

“No, for f**k’s sake. No. It’s… beautiful. It’s an agreement of trust. You allow me to dominate you sexually, and in return I make sure you’re safe as you push yourself outside your comfort zone. You will never be forced, but most of the world sees my sexual preference as disgusting, and violent, and degrading to women, and it’s not. It’s consensual. It’s highly erotic and it’s a kind of escapism that doesn’t come around very often.”

She’s silent for a moment, thinking presumably. “OK, but listen, that’s not what’s bothering me. I don’t think I should have to be faithful to you, especially when I don’t know how often you’ll be around to”—she offers me a shy smile—“take care of my needs. And yet you can go out and get laid if the mood strikes you. I won’t agree to it. Either we both follow the same rules, or I’m not interested.”

“We can’t both be in charge, Grace.”

“I don’t need to be in charge. I just want to be treated as your equal.”

“We can’t be equal, because I give the orders and you obey them.”

“In bed? Or in life, Vaughn? Because those are two very different things. In bed, fine. Be the caveman. But in life, no. I’m sorry, I’m in charge of that. I make my own decisions and you live with them.”

I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling for at least a minute. I expect her to get tired of waiting. To struggle to get up, release herself from my all-encompassing embrace. But she’s patient as I think this through. I’m not interested in someone who wants to whore around when I’m not present, but Grace doesn’t strike me as promiscuous.

“I want a weekly STD test from you,” I say without giving in to her demand. Let’s see how far this goes. “I will set up a private service to check.”

“Absolutely not!” she huffs in disgust. “You’re not getting control over my health care.”

“Then how can I be sure you’re clean if you refuse to be exclusive?”

“You’re the one who’s not using condoms, Vaughn. I haven’t had sex in eight months, I’m not a whore or a  p**n  star who needs to be checked for sexually transmitted diseases on a weekly basis.”

I smile at her. Eight months. “Who was the last boyfriend?”

“Who was your last slut?” she retorts.

I wince. “You’re not a slut, I know that.”

“Then don’t insult me with a demand for weekly STD testing. It’s not like I’d even have sex with anyone else, it’s just not fair that you expect me to be exclusive and I’m not allowed to expect the same from you. That’s bullshit.”

“The only other option is for me to stop seeing other women and I just told you I don’t do that.”

“Then this conversation is over.”

She makes to rise up out of my lap, but I hold her down again. That’s the third time in five minutes I’ve had to do that, and so far this conversation is not easing my mind that she will accept my offer. “You will not f**k anyone else. You are mine.”

“Then you will not f**k anyone else either. If you agree to that, then I will be yours.”

I stand up and set her on her feet, then point to the box. “Dress, please. My clothes are still in the bathroom. We will have dinner and discuss limits and the NDA. You will sign tonight, Grace. Understand?”

I expect her to balk at that order, assert her independence and put up a fight. But she simply smiles and says, “Yes, Master,” as she turns her back to go get the box.

Chapter Ten

SheepskinRugsEnoughSaid

HE doesn’t move to go get his clothes. Instead he stands still behind me. I can feel his heated stare on my body even though I can’t see him. I could feel him get excited when he spanked me. And holy shit, was that amazing or what?

I have to be honest with myself, I want to sign that damn agreement. Everything about this night has been erotic, and hot, and I’m so ready for him to f**k me again, I am starting to think I’m abnormal.

“Bend over, Grace. I want to see your pu**y.”

Oh. Fuck. I take in a deep breath. No, I gasp for air. I can’t draw it in fast enough, that’s how turned on I am with that request.

“Do it, please. I’m asking nicely. Bend over, like you’re going to tie your shoe, but keep your legs straight.”

I nod yes without turning around and then gulp down another fortifying breath. I bend at the waist and the air rushes in as my ass opens and exposes my soft folds to him. His hand rubs the round curve of my ass and then dips between my legs. “Will you ever be satisfied?” he asks as he flicks my clit.