Chapter 40

Dom

The moment she turned up on my doorstep with that innocent look in those slate grey eyes, I knew she was perfect. I’d never had a girl like Clara Anderson before. Never wanted a girl who had no experience in my way of life, but when I saw her picture on my regular site, I was drawn to her instantly. Reading her profile made it clear she wasn’t looking for a traditional arrangement. She wanted one night to explore her fantasy. And one night only is what I did.

This didn’t feel like a performance or a scene. I’d built a strange sort of understanding, a kinship with Clara over these past few weeks. It was almost as if I knew her inside out. I didn’t normally ask so many questions or feel the desire to know what a woman wanted to get out of this. I didn’t care enough.

The women I saw were just a means to an end.

Clara was different.

Clara felt real.

And she was mine for twenty four hours.

I’d already crossed so many lines agreeing to this but I didn’t care. Not when I had her right here, kneeling in between my legs with those deliciously pouty lips of hers so close to mine. I needed to see her crying out for me. I wanted those lips wrapped around my cock. There were far too many things I wanted from Clara and she would give them to me. She wanted a man to tell her exactly what he wanted so she could please him. And I was most definitely that man.

She’d told me about what others had asked of her. They didn’t read her profile, all they saw was willing pussy and a promise to let them do whatever they wanted to her. She didn’t need that kind of shit. Those cunts would abuse her trusting and innocent nature. It disgusted me, but then again, most of the more traditional aspects of the kink scene didn’t appeal to me either.

I had very specific tastes. And Clara just happened to fulfil a hell of a lot of those. Her profile read like a fucking checklist for my requirements. Never had I seen a woman so perfect for me. Except she had never done this before. A virgin in a sense. I’d asked her so many questions, just to make sure she was serious. The fact she’d answered each and every one in detail told me this wasn’t a whim. She had a deep seated need to have this fantasy fulfilled. Almost as if a part of her was missing without it.

“Come sit on my lap, hands on the arms of the chair,” I told her as I released her braid.

This wasn’t part of the plan at all. I’d meant to have her on her knees for longer, but the temptation to feel her skin against my palms proved too much. When she’d taken off her coat earlier, I’d had to hold back from tossing her over my shoulder, taking her upstairs, laying her out on my bed and slamming my cock inside her without warning.

Her curvaceous body was fucking sinful. What man could resist such an enticing display. A perfect hourglass figure. Her breasts weren’t too big and her nipples had instantly darkened and hardened under my gaze as if my mere presence affected her. Perhaps it did.

The thought of her little pussy on display for me when she’d bent over the chair made my cock throb. So smooth and sweet. Fuck, every aspect of her was perfect. It’s why I needed her close to me right now. Not touching her was driving me fucking crazy.

Clara crawled up onto me, straddling my legs and rested a hand either side of us, gripping the armchair to steady herself. The little exhales she made were music to my ears, almost as if she was holding back the sounds she really wanted to make.

“Do you remember the rules, Miss Anderson?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Recite them for me.”

I ran my fingers down the centre of her chest. Her sharp intake of breath was followed by a quiet moan. Shit, I wanted to hear her voice, crying out, begging me.

“I may only call you Sir. I must ask your permission if I want to come. I will do exactly as you tell me without hesitation or receive punishment. The safe word is butterfly and I’m to use it if at any point I want to stop, Sir.”

There was no need to complicate things too much. We’d already established each other’s limits. I respected boundaries. The kink scene was built on them. Violate someone’s hard limits and it’d be known you weren’t trustworthy. No one would want to associate or be involved with you. And even if that wasn’t the case, I was raised to treat women with the respect they deserved.

“That’s right. Don’t forget them, sweetness.”

Fuck knows where that came from, but I didn’t stop to think about it. My fingers brushed across her right breast. She bit her bottom lip, her teeth making indents on it. I swatted her behind with my other hand. She yelped in surprise, her mouth dropping open slightly.

“Don’t hold back, I want to hear every sound.”

“Sorry, Sir.”

I continued my path along her breast, my thumb circling her nipple which was hardened to a little peak on her chest. Her resulting moan made my cock twitch and throb. I was hard as stone, fucking desperate to be nestled deep inside her.

“Tell me what you are this evening, Miss Anderson.”

She hesitated, her body stiffening slightly. I slapped her behind again.

“Don’t make me wait.”

I could see her fingers digging into the fabric of the armchair.

“Your… whore, Sir.”

“My dirty little whore. You wanted to give yourself up to other men. That’s not acceptable.”

I pinched her nipple hard and she let out this beautiful little mewling sound.

“No, Sir, it’s not.” Her voice was all breathy.

Normally I wouldn’t call a woman a whore since it’s degrading, but Clara wanted this. Told me she wanted to feel naughty, dirty even when I’d asked about the way she’d liked to be spoken to.

“What happens to whores, Miss Anderson?”

“They get used, Sir, and…” I pinched her nipple harder.

“And what?”

“Fucked,” she whispered.