Chapter 28

Hannah

He circled me like a predator stalking prey. "These clothes aren't for the outside world, Hannah. They're for me. For my eyes only. Unless I specifically tell you otherwise."

"I figured as much," I said, sounding casual despite my racing heart. "I wouldn't exactly wear this to class."

"Good." His hand reached out, fingers trailing along the thin strap of my dress. "Because I don't share what's mine."

"I only wore it for you... Daddy."

His eyes darkened at the word. "Did you now?"

"You said the black packages were non-negotiable."

"And you're being such an obedient baby," he murmured, his hand sliding down to cup my ass. "Tell me, did you think about what I'd do to you when I saw you in this?"

I bit my lip. "Maybe."

"Liar." He squeezed harder, making me gasp. "You knew exactly what would happen."

The truth was, I did know. I knew from the moment I slipped on this ridiculous excuse for a dress that it would end with me underneath him. That was the arrangement, after all. He paid my bills, and I gave him what he wanted.

"These clothes," he continued, his hand moving to the hem of my dress, "are tools. They serve a purpose." His fingers slipped under the fabric, tracing the edge of my thong. "And that purpose is to make you accessible to me whenever I want."

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"Say it," he demanded.

"These clothes are for you," I managed. "I'll only wear them for you."

"Good girl." His approval shouldn't have mattered, but it did. "Now, about your little attitude earlier..."

"What attitude?" I asked innocently.

"Are you questioning me about texting you?" Leonardo's voice carried a dangerous edge that made my stomach flip.

"I just thought—"

"You thought I should report my whereabouts to you?" He raised an eyebrow, looking more amused than angry. "Is that how you believe this arrangement works?"

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, suddenly very aware of how little my dress covered. "No, I just meant it would be nice to know if you're running late, that's all."

Leonardo circled behind me, his hand never leaving my body. "Let me make something clear. You're not my girlfriend. You're not my wife. You're my sugar baby." His breath was hot against my ear. "That means you follow my instructions. Period."

I swallowed hard. "I understand."

"Do you?" His hand slid up my back, fingers tangling in my hair. "I'm a busy man, Hannah. I don't have time to send text messages explaining my every move. If I say I'll be somewhere at eight and I'm not there until nine, you wait. If I'm not there by ten, you continue waiting."

"But what if—"

He tugged my hair, silencing me. "If I need to cancel, I'll tell you. And on those occasions, you're free to leave or focus on your personal matters. And yes, you'll still be paid."

The last part surprised me. "Even if you cancel?"

"Did I stutter?" He released my hair and moved to face me again. "The arrangement stands regardless of my availability. Your time is mine, whether I use it or not."

I nodded, trying to process this information. So I was basically on call 24/7, but at least I'd get paid either way. There were worse arrangements.

"Now," Leonardo said, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that made my knees weak. "Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, I understand."

Without warning, his hand came down hard on my ass, the slap echoing in the quiet room. I yelped, more from surprise than pain.

"Did you understand?" he repeated, his hand still resting possessively on my stinging flesh.

"Yes, Daddy," I gasped, feeling heat spread across my skin. "I won't expect messages or calls again."

Leonardo's hand lingered on my ass; his touch was both punishing and possessive. The sting from his slap was already fading into a pleasant warmth that radiated through my body.

"Good girl," he murmured. "Now, let me be perfectly clear about something else." His fingers trailed up my spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "When I tell you to be somewhere at a certain time, you will be there waiting for me. I don't care if I'm an hour late or three hours late. Your job is to be ready and waiting."

I nodded, my breath catching as his hand found its way back to my ass.

"And if I arrive and you're not there..." His grip tightened, making me squirm. "Well, let's just say what you just felt will seem like a gentle caress compared to the punishment you'll receive."

"But what if there's traffic or—"

Another slap landed on my other cheek, harder this time. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

"Did I ask for excuses?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft.

"No, Daddy."

"Plan ahead. Leave early. I don't care what you have to do. Just be where I tell you to be when I tell you to be there." His hand soothed over the spot he'd just spanked. "Is that understood?"

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be on time."

"And I might not be," he said with a smirk. "That's the beauty of our arrangement. I pay for the privilege of your time, which means I can use it however I see fit."

I couldn't argue with that logic, especially not when his hands were doing such distracting things to my body. He was right – this was the deal I'd signed up for. My time for his money. And considering the alternative of drowning in debt with my bank account perpetually hovering near zero, waiting around in a luxury penthouse didn't seem like such a hardship.

"I understand," I said, sounding submissive rather than sarcastic. "I'll be wherever you want me to be, exactly when you want me there."

"Mmm, I do love it when you're obedient. It makes me want to reward you."

"Really?" I perked up at that. "What kind of reward?"

"You want to know what good girls get?"

I nodded eagerly, forgetting that I was supposed to be annoyed with him. His hand traced up my thigh, pushing the already short dress higher.

"Good girls get exactly what they need," he murmured, his fingers finding the edge of my thong. "And I know exactly what you need, baby."

Without warning, he lifted me up like I weighed nothing, his hands gripping my ass as he carried me across the penthouse. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and I could feel how hard he was through his expensive suit pants.

"Daddy," I gasped as he set me down on the cold marble of the kitchen island. The contrast between the cool surface and my heated skin made me shiver.

"Bend over," he commanded. "Hands flat on the counter."

I obeyed, bending at the waist and placing my palms on the cool marble. The position pushed my ass out, and I felt him flip up my dress, exposing me completely.

"Look at this," he growled, one finger tracing the thin strip of my thong. "Wearing this tiny piece of nothing under that excuse for a dress."