Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, but the story is my own.
Proceed with caution, there is some smut.
Chapter 4
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"Damn, Clearwater, you're gonna have to start paying me, might have to start bringing Kujo with me," Jacob said, his laid-back tone laced with a teasing grin. He's had Kujo for over ten years. Beautiful lab retriever mix. I like him more than I like Jacob.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "We have a yard, you coulda brought him," I said. "and as far as pay, that's why I cook for you guys before I leave. You're supposed to be doing this out of the kindness of your heart."
"Kindness of my heart?" he repeated, pretending to look shocked. "Wow, you really know how to squeeze a guy dry, huh? At least buy me dinner first."
I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. "You eat for free half the time anyway."
"True," he admitted, grinning wider. "But charity work only holds me off for so long, y'know? A guy has needs."
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, brushing him off.
He leaned casually against the doorframe. His eyes glinted with mischief. "So... what's got you all serious today? Gotta keep tabs on my favorite bane of existence."
"Work," I replied with a shrug, avoiding his gaze.
"I thought you didn't work Fridays," he said, tilting his head slightly as he studied me.
"Money's tight, y'know?" I said, glancing away. "I did mention that the other day."
He clicked his tongue, feigning disapproval. "Overachiever alert. Bet you're out there making all the rest of us look bad. I should really stop being so damn helpful—it's giving you too much of a head start."
I smirked at him. "If you're so worried about it, you could always work there too."
"And miss out on my Friday morning beauty sleep? Nah, you're on your own," he quipped, flashing me a playful wink. Then his tone softened slightly. "But seriously, Clearwater, this hustle better be worth it."
The words hit me harder than I expected, twisting my stomach into a knot. I couldn't help but hope he was right—that everything I was putting myself through would be worth it in the end.
"Just call my cell if you need me, okay?" I said quickly, trying to keep the conversation light.
He raised an eyebrow. "What, I can't call your job again? Afraid I'll embarrass you?"
I shook my head calmly, hiding a smile. "Nah, can't tie up the lines," I lied. "Just call my cell—I'll have it on me."
He grinned knowingly, his voice dropping into a teasing lilt. "Fine, but if I call and you don't pick up, I'm showing up in person. You've been warned."
I mentally noted to keep my phone on the highest ring volume possible. Not that I wanted him to show up or anything... but better safe than sorry.
"Got it," I replied quickly. "You just make sure my brother's okay while I'm gone."
"He's more than okay around me, dude," Jacob shot back, flashing a smug grin.
Before I could respond, the sound of clunky footsteps came from upstairs. Seth appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his face lighting up as soon as he saw Jacob.
"Hey, man!" Seth greeted cheerfully, practically bouncing in his excitement.
I let out a soft huff, somewhere between relief and resignation. It was nice to see Seth so happy, but a part of me couldn't help feeling a little stung that I didn't get the same kind of reaction from him. Jacob, though, ate it up.
"What's up!" Jacob exclaimed, adding a loud pop of his lips for flair. Then, with a big, goofy grin, he glanced over at me. "See? Told you. More bonding time for us. Now, go make that money!" He waved me off dramatically, like he was shooing a stray cat.
I grimaced, narrowing my eyes at him. "Nice."
He just laughed, throwing me a wink before turning his attention back to Seth, already diving into conversation.
Before they could get too caught up, I stepped in quickly, pulling Seth into a big, strong hug.
"Love you. Be good," I said firmly, squeezing him tight.
Seth rolled his eyes but smiled. "I will."
Jacob glanced over, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "He's good, Clearwater. Relax," he teased as I released my brother and turned toward him. He shrugged dramatically, his grin widening. "What, no hug for me?"
I scoffed, turning on my heels without a word and heading out the door.
Behind me, I could hear Jacob laughing, the sound following me as I walked away. I got into my truck and started off.
I'd spent the previous night poring over the paperwork, my eyes scanning every detail well into the early hours of the morning. It contained everything I needed to know about Mr. Edward Masen—his background, his most recent STI testing from just a week ago, and even his vaccination records. Tucked within the stack of documents was a photo of him.
He was dangerously handsome.
I'd thankfully had time this morning while Seth slept to get a painful Brazilian wax.
The instructions for reaching Edward's property were as precise as they were intriguing. The paperwork referred to it as his "compound," and the directions emphasized the exclusivity of the location.
The drive took over an hour and a half. As I got closer, the houses along the route became increasingly grand and imposing, each one larger and more extravagant than the last. Eventually, the road stretched ahead in a long, uninterrupted line, leading to an imposing black iron gate.
According to the papers, I was to arrive at his place by 1 PM sharp. I'd made great time, pulling up just ten minutes early.
I slowed to a stop, spotting a black box with a small red button near the gate. It looked like some kind of security system. Just as I leaned forward to press the button, the gates creaked open on their own, the sound carrying eerily in the stillness around me.
I took a deep breath and nudged the truck forward, its engine clunking as I rolled through the open gates.
Through the trees, a sprawling white mansion came into view, its pristine facade gleaming in the midday sun. It had to be thousands of square feet, maybe more. On my right, I passed what appeared to be a grape orchard, the neat rows of vines stretching into the distance.
As I approached the mansion, my nerves tightened their grip, and my hands clenched the steering wheel. The grandeur of the estate seemed to grow with every inch closer, making it all feel even more overwhelming.
I pulled up to the front of the house, guided by a burly man in a suit who stepped out and motioned for me to park. His movements were calm and deliberate, yet authoritative.
As I climbed out and grabbed my bag, he approached with a polite but firm smile. "May I take that for you, Miss?" he asked, extending a hand.
Caught off guard, I hesitated for a moment before handing over the bag. "Just protocol," he explained, unzipping it the moment it was in his hands.
The efficiency of it all amused me, though I couldn't help but find it a bit excessive. Still, I didn't protest, watching as he carefully examined the contents. After a thorough look, he zipped it back up and handed it back to me.
"Apologies," he said sincerely, his chunky cheeks shifting as he pursed his lips. Without another word, he turned and strode ahead, leading the way to the massive front doors.
I followed, staring after him in quiet astonishment, still wrapping my head around the fact that I was even here.
The doors opened, and I stepped inside. The space was breathtaking—an expansive room that seemed fit for hosting grand, elegant balls straight out of a fairy tale. For a brief moment, I felt like Cinderella. There were these glorious marble steps leading to the upstairs.
"Mr. Masen should be down shortly," the man said, breaking the spell of the grand room. He gestured toward a wide archway across the space. "You can wait in there."
I nodded politely. "Thank you," I replied softly, my voice echoing faintly in the cavernous house.
"Absolutely," he said with a small smile before shutting the door behind me, leaving me standing alone with my bag.
I probably looked like a bum, comparatively.
I took a deep breath, glancing around before deciding to move forward. The sound of my footsteps on the polished floor seemed almost too loud as I crossed the room. Beyond the archway, I entered another expansive space. A large white couch faced a towering brick fireplace, its design modern yet welcoming. A plush shag rug sprawled across the floor, and two elegant armchairs were perfectly positioned on either side of the setup.
I chose one of the armchairs, the soft fabric practically screaming expensive as I sank into it. It felt indulgently comfortable, but it didn't do much to ease my nerves. My bag, I threw it down beside me.
As I waited, I found myself fidgeting—wringing my hands, tugging at my fingers, and tapping my nails lightly against the armrest. My stomach was in knots. I was nervous as hell.
Then I heard movement—footsteps descending the stairs, crossing the vast room, and heading straight toward where I was seated.
I turned toward the archway, anticipation prickling at my skin. When he entered, I had to fight to keep my mouth from dropping open.
This man exuded pure masculinity.
I felt like I was coming undone. Without the mask, he was even more intimidating.
His broad shoulders and toned chest were framed perfectly by a fitted blue V-neck. His brown hair was slightly tousled, and I couldn't help but imagine it felt as soft as silk.
His face was striking—high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and piercing green eyes that locked onto mine with an effortless confidence. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets, but there was nothing casual about the commanding presence he exuded.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Andrea," he said, flashing a smile as he glanced at his watch. "You're almost right on time."
Shit that's right, my moniker. "Yeah, I try," I muttered finally with a small, nervous laugh.
He gave me an easy grin, motioning for me to follow him. "Well, come on. I'll give you a little tour of the lower level."
I trailed behind him as he guided me through the halls. One archway revealed a massive kitchen gleaming with stainless steel. The sleek design screamed money, and I couldn't help but feel out of place in such an extravagant space. He didn't linger, leading us past the kitchen and down a hallway beside it.
We stopped at a door, and he opened it, gesturing inside. "If you need to freshen up, this will be your area for tonight."
I nodded, taking a mental note before we turned back toward the kitchen. As we passed through, he brought us towards another hall. My eyes landed on a striking painting of a native woman with a wolf, its earthy tones and lifelike detail standing out against the otherwise modern decor.
He motioned down the hallway. "That's the lounge. We'll be in there later tonight."
"For?" I asked, though I had a feeling I already knew the answer.
He chuckled softly, the sound warm but layered with meaning. "What do you think?"
Fair enough. Sex dungeon. Got it. Very rich.
"Edward—" I started, unsure of how to phrase my next thought.
"You can call me Master," he interrupted, his tone calm but carrying an undeniable authority that sent a prickle of unease through me.
I blinked, caught off guard, and my expression must have said it all because he gave a faint smile, as though amused by my reaction.
"It'll make sense in time," he added with a casual shrug, as if this was the most natural conversation in the world.
"Okay," I sighed, the word dragging out. "Well, what do you have in mind for tonight... Master?" The title felt foreign on my tongue, wrong in every possible way.
He clearly noticed my discomfort, his lips twitching into a faint, amused smile.
"I know it can feel awkward at first," he said, his grin widening. "But you don't need to worry." His tone softened, as though he were letting me in on a secret. "With me, you'll have nothing but an amazing night. I was thinking we could start with dinner—get to know each other a little."
The important spots were covered. He did mention there's a basketball court and theater somewhere on the lower level. I couldn't find it even if he gave me a map at this point. He'd instructed me to head to the spare room and get dressed. Panic set in as I thought about the ratty clothes I'd brought, convinced they wouldn't be good enough for tonight. But as soon as I entered the room with my bag, I stopped dead in my tracks. There, draped perfectly over the pristine bed, was a silk black short dress—its soft fabric shimmering under the light, far more elegant than anything I could have imagined.
Just as I was about to question how he got my sizes for this, I glanced at the tag and saw "Whitlock" imprinted on it. I shook my head, a smile of disbelief creeping onto my face. Alice. Of course.
That's a lady I can rely on. Her taste is impeccable, and now I see why. She designs these herself.
I quickly discarded my clothes and slipped into the dress, its fabric hugging my body in all the right places. Just as I was wondering about shoes, I spotted them on the floor near the end of the bed—beautiful black stilettos, brand spanking new. I slipped them on, my feet already feeling more powerful and confident in them. I'd ditched my underwear, figuring I probably won't need that at all tonight. As awful as it sounds.
I quickly checked my phone, no missed calls. All good. I'd take it as a good sign.
I left my hair out, figuring it would take too long to do anything with it. It framed my face in soft curls, bouncing with every movement. I looked in the mirror one last time, trying to calm my racing heart before heading out.
I found Edward in the grand ballroom, standing near the front door. He spun to face me once he heard my footsteps approaching. His eyes widened slightly, and I hesitated at the threshold.
"Oh, wow," he hissed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You are a vision in black."
My cheeks burned at the compliment, my fingers nervously adjusting the hem of the dress. He looked just as impeccable—his white dress shirt perfectly ironed, black dress pants hanging neatly, and polished leather shoes that seemed to gleam under the dim lights. A dark blue pea coat folded, covered his forearm.
As I stepped closer, he turned quickly, walking away in the opposite direction in front of the stairs. I heard a door open and close.
"It's kind of cold out," he called from the other side, before reappearing with a sleek black trench coat. The silver buttons glinted in the soft light. He draped it over his arm, then turned to face me with a smile that made my stomach flutter.
"Here, let me," he said, opening it up for me. I slid into the coat quickly, tying the thick fabric rope around my waist, feeling its weight and warmth.
"Perfect," he said approvingly. "Ready?"
I nodded, glancing up at him. He opened the door for me, ushering me out first, then quickly shut it behind him. We walked side by side to his car, a sleek white Lexus that seemed to match the rest of the evening's opulence.
He popped open the passenger side door for me, and I slid in, the smell of fresh leather and new car scent hitting me immediately. It was as though everything about this night had been meticulously planned, down to the smallest detail.
He closed the door with a soft thud, walked around to the driver's side, and slid in. As he started the car, I felt a sense of anticipation building, unsure of what the night would hold, but oddly eager to see where it would go.
"Where are we headed?" I asked, glancing over at him as he pulled away from the curb.
His lips curved into a faint smile as he drove, his hands steady on the wheel. "Somewhere nice," he said, the tone of his voice leaving little to the imagination.
He'd been driving for about ten minutes, before we pulled up to a sleek, expensive-looking steakhouse, the kind of place I hadn't been to since my father was alive. Just the sight of it made me feel out of my element.
"You look beautiful," Edward said as he held the door open for me.
I blushed, looking down at my dress. "You do realize you're like... a model, right?"
He chuckled, a deep, pleasant sound. "I appreciate that, but I must say, I don't think you realize just how beautiful you are, Andrea."
His compliment threw me off, and I fumbled for something to say as we were seated at a cozy table tucked toward the back of the restaurant. The dim lighting and soft clinking of silverware on plates added to the already surreal atmosphere. Waiters came, bringing us water and wine immediately. Greeting 'Mr. Masen' happily.
"So," I began, trying to break the tension once we were left along again, "what do you do exactly? For work, I mean."
"I'm an appraiser," he said, his tone easy.
I raised an eyebrow, suspicion flickering in my mind. "Appraiser? Like art and antiques?"
"Exactly."
I couldn't help but tilt my head. "And that's enough to afford... your place?"
He smirked knowingly, clearly sensing my doubt. "I can tell you don't believe me."
"I mean," I said with a shrug, "your house is, well... ridiculous. Appraising doesn't exactly scream millionaire mansion."
He laughed softly, leaning back in his chair. "You caught me. I come from old money."
"Ah," I said, the pieces clicking into place. "So the fancy car and... everything else isn't just from work."
"Not entirely," he admitted, taking a sip of his wine. His eyes sparkled with amusement. "I still work for a living, though. Keeps me grounded."
I snorted lightly. "Grounded? Sure. I bet all of us 'grounded' people have gated mansions and private chefs."
He grinned. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Andrea."
"I'm not jealous," I shot back, my tone playful, though I couldn't help but feel a little uneasy under his gaze.
His eyes softened, the teasing glint fading as he leaned back slightly. "I think I like you better when you're honest."
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the weight of his stare, yet somehow unable to look away.
Just then, a waiter approached, ready to take our order. But the waiter didn't even glance at Edward. It was clear that he already knew what Edward would have.
I ordered a 6oz steak with potatoes and veggies, hoping I sounded composed.
"You're not getting anything?" I asked, a little confused.
Edward laughed softly, a confident, amused sound. "I come here from time to time. They know my usual."
"Oh," I replied, feeling a bit silly for even asking.
We continued chatting lightly, the food arriving in less than ten minutes. The restaurant, as expected, moved quickly, but there was a different kind of stillness between us now, an undercurrent of tension that was hard to ignore.
"So, Andrea," Edward said, his voice unexpectedly serious as he cut into his steak. "Do you think you can follow through with this?"
His question surprised me, catching me off guard. I almost choked on my wine, hurriedly holding a napkin to my lips as I caught my breath. "Shouldn't be too hard," I joked, trying to deflect his words.
He chuckled, but there was something more in his eyes now, a quiet intensity.
His knife and fork clinked softly as he set them down, his demeanor changing again, more focused. "So you know, there is a safe word," he said, his voice steady, low, and commanding.
I paused for a second, trying to steady myself under the new layer of seriousness that had settled between us.
My head tilted, surprised by the shift. "Oh yeah?"
"Rover."
I blinked. "Rover?"
He nodded, his eyebrows lifting slightly. "You can use it at any time. If you're uncomfortable, if something's too much, or if you just want to stop."
I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. "So..."
"So," he said, cutting into his steak with an unsettling calm, "this is about mutual trust, Andrea. I need you to feel safe with me, and I need to know that if you say the word, you mean it."
His words hung in the air as I processed them, watching as he dipped a piece of steak into the blood pooling on his plate before taking a bite.
"You can say it anytime you're not comfortable," he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "But if certain needs aren't fulfilled, there's always the possibility—"
"I know," I interjected quickly, raising my hand to stop him. "I read the instructions Alice gave me."
If I refused certain things, or if the client wasn't satisfied, there was always the risk of them taking the payment back, refusing the date. And I'd come too far to let that happen now.
His expression shifted slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. I wondered if maybe I shouldn't have interrupted. This wasn't a normal date, I couldn't really be myself.
"So, Andrea, I've read through your paperwork, and I must say, I feel like I lucked out tonight," he said. With a snap of his fingers, a waiter appeared and refilled our glasses with more red wine.
I muttered a quick thank you, then turned my attention back to Edward. "How so?"
He took a slow sip from his crystal glass, his eyes glinting with a knowing curiosity. "According to your file, it seems you haven't been intimate with a man since high school?"
The words hit me like a wave, and my face twisted in surprise, followed by a flush of mild embarrassment. Had I disclosed that detail to Alice? I wasn't sure, and the fact that he knew made me feel strangely exposed. I didn't know if I wanted to get into that conversation just yet, especially not with him.
He noticed my reaction and continued, almost nonchalantly. "That's a rarity amongst the club."
My eyes widened for a split second before I quickly tried to mask my surprise, pulling back my judgment and reigning in my expression.
"I must say, your normalcy is quite endearing," Edward said, his tone softening but still full of that subtle intrigue.
I couldn't help but smirk, trying to keep my cool. "Am I the charity case?" I asked, half in jest, but there was a flicker of unease that lingered in my voice.
Edward leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. "You're interesting to me, is all I'm saying. The night at the ball, when I saw you, I knew immediately I'd be leaving there knowing I'd have you."
His words, though confident, sent a ripple through me. I wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or uneasy. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, but the possessive edge to his words made me wonder just how much of a choice I had in the matter.
I blurted out, almost without thinking, "What about Sage?"
Shit. Clear it up, Clearwater. Don't mess this up now.
He raised an eyebrow, taking a casual bite of his steak. "What about her?"
I shrugged, my tone more biting than I intended. "She seemed like a bitch."
Edward nearly choked on his wine, stifling a laugh. "She is," he managed, grinning. "Dastardly woman, expects too much, doesn't know her place," he added, his voice taking on a low, gruff edge.
I couldn't help but laugh a little too, the tension easing between us. However, something about the way he said it still bothered me. It was strange how quickly the atmosphere shifted from intense to casual, but I found myself wondering if perhaps he wasn't as serious or intimidating as I'd initially thought. Still, his earlier words lingered in my mind, keeping me on edge.
We finished our meal with some light conversation about how decadent the steak was. It had been perfectly cooked, literally melting in my mouth—one of the best I'd ever had.
Afterward, Edward paid the bill, and we made our way outside into the night, heading back to the parking lot. The cool air hit us as we walked, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and conflict about the night ahead.
We reached his fancy car, and I felt the warmth of his hand on my lower back, guiding me. Once we arrived at the Lexus, his hands slid to my hips, effortlessly lifting me onto the hood.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice sharp with surprise.
"You really don't get to ask questions right now," he murmured, his voice low and steady. His hands pressed firmly beside my thighs, his thumbs brushing against the bare skin beneath the hem of my dress, which had ridden up far more than I'd intended. He positioned himself between my legs, his movements deliberate yet unhurried.
I chose silence, focusing on maintaining what little composure I had left. My hands gripped the trench coat wrapped around me, a feeble attempt at preserving some sense of modesty against the dress that seemed far too short in this moment.
His eyes locked onto mine, the intensity in his gaze rooting me in place, leaving no room for distraction. Our breaths mingled in the charged space between us, the world around us fading into the background. A couple walked by, completely unaware of the tension crackling in the air, while the parking lot bustled with scattered groups of people, each lost in their own conversations and routines.
"I'm going to touch you, okay?" he asked, his voice almost a promise.
I nodded slowly, a shiver running through me as his hand traced slow circles on the tops of my thighs. His grip tightened as his fingers moved higher, and I couldn't suppress the fluttering feeling that coursed through me. I was almost tempted to say Rover when another couple of people walked by. Edward didn't pay that any mind.
Acknowledging that this was all new to me, I tried to relax, but the effort made it harder. My body trembled, though not from the chill in the air.
When he realized I wasn't wearing underwear, his eyes lit up with a mix of satisfaction and excitement. His hand brushed lightly over my most sensitive area, and I gasped, my breath catching. His gaze remained locked on mine, unwavering, like he was savoring the moment.
His fingers moved with deliberate precision, each touch sending waves of sensation coursing through me. My head began to tilt back, but his free hand slid into my hair, tangling gently in the strands as he guided me to keep my eyes on him. Our foreheads pressed together, his breath hot against my lips as I let out a long, trembling sigh, completely lost in the moment.
My hands clutched the collar of his pea coat for balance, my knuckles whitening as his movements quickened. I gasped as one of his fingers pinched my clit, teasing the edge of my restraint. Every nerve in my body was ablaze, but I fought the urge to move against his hand, the thrill of where we were keeping me on edge.
"You like this, don't you?" he murmured, his voice low and tinged with fascination.
"Please," I begged, my voice trembling, my cheeks burning with the heat of embarrassment and desire. My mind screamed at me to stop—reminded me we were in a public parking lot with people scattered nearby—but the more he stroked and teased, the more I didn't want him to. The forbidden nature of it made it all the more electrifying.
"Fuck," he sighed against my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. "You look and feel so good."
I gasped sharply as his index finger slid further down, pressing against my entrance before easing in, the sensation making my eyes flutter shut. For a moment, I lost all sense of where we were, focusing only on the way he touched me.
"Tell me, do you like it?" His voice was gruff, his arousal evident as I glance down.
"I love it," I moaned breathlessly, the words tumbling out before I could stop myself. My teeth caught my lip as I struggled to keep quiet, but the sense of freedom in the moment was intoxicating.
His chest rumbled with approval, the vibrations reverberating through me. "I can't wait to show you a good time," he murmured, his fingers quickening their pace.
Had it not been for the firm bite on my lip, I was certain a scream would've escaped me. Even as the thought of being caught flickered in my mind, it only added to the wild sense of abandon I felt in his hands. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't care who might see—I felt free.
"You gonna cum?" He asked quietly.
Unable to reply, I nodded, my body trembling as the wave of release built and finally crashed over me. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my knees spread wider as I clung to him for support.
"So fucking sexy. Look at you," he murmured, his voice husky as his eyes stayed locked on mine. I could barely process his words, the aftershocks of my climax still rippling through me.
After a moment, he gently helped me down from the trunk. My heels clicked against the cement as they found solid ground, grounding me in the reality of what had just happened. The cool night air brushed against my flushed skin, amplifying the mix of emotions swirling inside me. I felt dirty but sexy—conflicted yet exhilarated. None of it made sense, and yet, I couldn't deny that it felt... right.
The drive back to his place was cloaked in silence, the intensity between us lingering like an unspoken conversation. When we finally pulled up, the gate was already open, swinging smoothly to welcome us. He stepped out of the car and circled around, opening my door before I could reach for the handle.
"Thank you," I said softly, accepting his outstretched hand as I climbed out. His touch was steady, grounding.
He gave me a small, knowing smile. "Go clean up in the spare room. Alice dropped off something for you to wear tonight," he said, gesturing toward the house as he led me to the front door. His voice was calm, though the lingering electricity from earlier still charged the air between us.
As I stepped inside, he paused at the base of the staircase and turned to me. "Meet me in the lounge," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for question.
I tilted my head, brows furrowed. "The double doors down that hall?" I asked, pointing over my shoulder.
He nodded, a small grin playing on his lips, before heading upstairs. The soft sound of his footsteps faded as he ascended, leaving me standing in the expansive foyer.
I kicked off my heels, scooping them up and making a dash through the sprawling maze of hallways. My memory of his earlier directions guided me to the spare room near the kitchen. Once inside, I gently shut the door behind me, finally allowing myself to release the whirlwind of emotions I'd been holding in.
Leaning against the door, I gasped, giggling almost uncontrollably as everything hit me at once. The absurdity, the thrill—it all felt surreal. Flicking on the light, I let my gaze travel around the room, finally landing on the bed.
There it was, just as Edward had mentioned: a stunning red bodysuit. Curious, I stepped closer, letting my fingers brush against the soft lace fabric. It was sheer and intricate, each delicate detail exuding sensuality. I held it up, marveling at the impeccable design. Of course, it was see-through.
I sighed, part nerves, part anticipation. Tonight was turning into something I never could have imagined.
I'd checked my phone again, and still not a peep or complaint from Jacob. I sighed, feeling relief.
I stepped into the bathroom and instantly felt as though I had entered a five-star spa. The space was sleek and pristine, the walls a crisp, glossy white that shimmered under the glow of recessed lighting. Large marble tiles stretched from the floor to halfway up the walls, with delicate veins of gold running through the stone. A massive rainfall shower sat in one corner, encased in crystal-clear glass, its fixtures polished to a mirror-like shine.
The scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air—subtle but intoxicating. I glanced around, spotting a vase of pale pink peonies on the spacious vanity, which was topped with sparkling white quartz. Even the faucet seemed luxurious, shaped like a slender swan with its neck gracefully arched. A deep soaking tub sat nearby, perched under a large window with flowing white curtains, offering a peek at the moonlit garden outside.
The details were astonishing. Fluffy white towels, perfectly folded, sat on a heated rack. Small bottles of high-end toiletries were neatly arranged on a tray, their labels written in delicate gold script. I couldn't resist opening one to take a sniff—gardenia and jasmine filled my senses, rich and elegant.
I turned the shower on, the water cascading like a gentle summer rain, and stepped in. As the warm spray hit my skin, I closed my eyes and let out a soft sigh. For a moment, I forgot where I was and what had brought me here, completely swept away by the indulgent comfort of the space. Everything about this bathroom screamed opulence, far removed from anything I'd ever experienced before. It was hard not to feel a little out of place—but in this moment, I could simply enjoy it.
I stepped out of the bathroom, a plush towel wrapped snugly around my body, another twisted into my damp hair. The bedroom was just as opulent as the rest of the house, and I crossed to the bed where the lace bodysuit waited. It felt delicate, almost too fragile to wear, but I slid into it carefully, taking my time to ensure I didn't tear anything. The fabric clung to me like a second skin, hugging every curve.
Once I was fully dressed—if you could call this dressed—I padded across the room, my bare feet meeting the cool tile floors. A shiver ran through me, though I wasn't sure if it was from the chill or the anticipation curling in my stomach. I moved through the house cautiously, trying to piece together the directions he'd given me. The place was a labyrinth, and I almost got turned around again until a familiar sight caught my eye.
The painting of the native woman with the wolf hung like a beacon indicating the way. Relief washed over me as I realized I was on the right track.
Before reaching the double doors, I spotted a tall mirror against the wall and paused. The reflection staring back at me made me falter for a moment. The lace bodysuit left little to the imagination, you could see my dark nipples through the fabric, and my skin still glowed faintly from the hot shower. My hair, freshly washed, had dried into a wild cascade of curls that framed my face. I tried to smooth them down, running my fingers through to tame the chaos.
I adjusted the sleeves of the bodysuit and stood a little taller, taking a deep breath. "Alright, you can do this," I whispered to my reflection, steeling myself. With one final glance, I turned and made my way to the double doors.
As it creaked open, I took a step.
There he was, in this lounge, seated in a large red armchair, his white dress shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders, unbuttoned almost entirely. His disheveled brown hair added to the casual decadence of his appearance. He looked like he had just clicked the phone onto the receiver sitting atop a small marble table beside him. His black dress pants were unzipped, leaving little to the imagination.
A leather-seated stool stood prominently in the middle of the room. Nearby, a massive, impeccably made bed caught my eye. Silk ropes hung neatly beside the polished nightstand, accompanied by a set of cuffs. My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard, palms slick with sweat.
The only window in the room was behind him, obscured by lush curtains and a drawn shade.
I stepped in, the smell of lavender and leather wafting into the hall until I shut the door behind me.
The lights were dimmed to a sultry glow. The luxurious carpet beneath my bare feet felt grounding, a small comfort against the overwhelming energy of the room.
Here I was, standing in nothing but a blood-red lace bodysuit. It was surprisingly comfortable—not itchy, like I had feared. Well-made and designed to hug my curves perfectly, it had given me confidence when I had seen myself in the mirror down the hall. But now, standing before him, I felt completely out of place, like a fish out of water.
"Wow," he murmured, his gaze roaming over me with an intensity that left me breathless. Lust wrecked his expression.
I pursed my lips, unsure of what to say or do. Where did we even go from here?
As if reading my mind, he rose slowly, his movements deliberate.
"Sit," he instructed, gesturing to the adjustable stool.
The leather seat was cool against my skin as I settled onto it, the sensation amplifying my awareness of just how exposed I was.
"You are divine," he whispered, circling me with the predatory grace of a leopard.
I couldn't look at him. His presence was overwhelming, and I felt far too vulnerable, far too naked. This body suit clung to every part of me.
"I'm going to use you," he said simply, his fingers brushing over my backside. The sharp smack that followed left a stinging sensation that made me inhale sharply. "Entirely," he added, one finger tracing the curve of my ass, stroking past my asshole. I tensed instinctively, and he noticed.
"Maybe not that—yet," he said, the promise in his tone sending a shiver down my spine.
As he moved beside me, I couldn't help but notice his arousal pressing through the fabric of his briefs. His perfectly chiseled abdomen and the defined V leading downward were almost hypnotic. I couldn't stop my mind from racing—how would this even work? My nerves doubled as I worried about whether it would hurt. I took a deep, steadying breath. Wondering how this instrument of pleasure is going to make that tight squeeze.
"I usually have a rule about kissing," he said, his voice roughened with restraint. "But your record is... impressively clean, barely touched." His tone was low, deliberate. "I'd like to kiss you, if that's okay?"
Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze, terrified of what I might find there. My wide eyes probably looked like those of a frightened kitten. I nodded quickly, unable to find my voice, and then looked away again from those emerald eyes. He moved behind me, disappearing from my line of sight.
"I only want to pleasure you, Andrea," he murmured, his voice thick and deep, reverberating through me.
The use of the nickname I've been using threw me off balance again, reminding me that he didn't actually know my real name. It was a strange detail to cling to, but it somehow made this entire situation feel slightly less personal—more transactional. And I needed that right now. The thought of the payment waiting for me after this helped ease some of my anxiety. This was something I had never done before, and I was clinging to any shred of reassurance I could find.
"Of course, for my own pleasure as well," he added, his strong hand gathering a fistful of my hair. He gently tugged, tilting my head back until my face was aligned with the pristine white ceiling. My breath hitched as the tension in my scalp heightened my awareness of every other sensation.
"But just so you know," he continued, his voice soothing as his free hand stroked my neck, "I'm not into torture or any crazy shit."
"That's reassuring," I replied, the sarcasm slipping out automatically. I did see those cuffs earlier when I first entered the room.
He chuckled, the sound rich and genuine—a stark contrast to the intensity of the moment.
"I want you to be completely comfortable," he said, his tone softening as his free hand moved to graze my shoulder. The touch sent an unfamiliar twist through my stomach—a mix of nerves and arousal. "Are you okay sitting here?"
I nodded, my nerves still buzzing, but the weight of his words offered a fragile sense of safety. For this being my first time doing something like this, I felt oddly fortunate to have someone who seemed to care about my comfort.
If there is a heaven, I hope my ancestors aren't watching.
"I do have a couple of kinks," he said, releasing my hair. My head dipped as I instinctively looked down at my lap. "I don't think you'll have a problem with them. Not after a little coaxing, maybe."
I took another deep breath, working to steady myself. This was transactional, I reminded myself. After tonight, my household would be half a million dollars richer. That thought alone was enough to keep me from running outta here.
"Would you like to lay on the bed?" he asked gently, his fingers idly playing with the ends of my wild hair, sending a shiver down my spine.
I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Is that what you want?"
He groaned softly, kneeling beside me. His hands, large and strong, wrapped around one of my feet. I was silently grateful I'd taken the time to paint my toenails, the bright red polish coincidentally matching the lace I wore.
"You want me to tell you what I want?" he asked, his voice a low, velvety hum.
Before I could answer, he began massaging my foot, his thumbs pressing into the arches with practiced precision. A sharp hiss escaped my lips as the tension melted under his touch.
My head tilted to the side, my body responding to the soothing rhythm as his hands worked their way up my calves and then to my thighs. Every movement was deliberate, his touch firm yet unhurried.
"Do you?" he repeated, his voice carrying an edge of curiosity, almost daring me to answer.
I nodded slowly, biting my lip to contain the soft whimper that threatened to escape.
"I want you to open that gorgeous mouth and take me down your throat," he said, his voice thick with need, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.
This is real. This is happening.
Something about his command sent a jolt through me. I had never been spoken to like this before. My body reacted instinctively, a pulse of heat spreading through me as I clenched and released against the growing ache. I stared at him, momentarily stunned by his audacity, yet somehow emboldened by it.
"Right now?" I whispered, my voice barely audible, betraying both my nerves and my intrigue.
He tilted his head, fighting the urge to smirk, and gave me a slow nod. Without a word, he reached under the seat I was perched on, and before I could ask what he was doing, the stool began to lower.
I swallowed hard as I realized I was now level with his hips. Panic bubbled at the edge of my mind—when was the last time I'd even sucked a dick? My confidence wavered, but I was determined not to show it.
"Hey," he rasped, leaning down slightly, his voice a husky reassurance. "Remember the safe word?"
I froze for a moment, meeting his gaze. His bright green eyes, sharp and unwavering, stood out even in the dim light of the room. His reminder gave me a strange sense of peace, breaking through my hesitation. For a second, I'd almost said it—but I reminded myself: this would be worth it.
I was about to get the dust knocked off. Oil the joints a little. This shouldn't be too bad. Besides, protection was required for the date. At least I'd read through all the paperwork beforehand.
"Yes," I replied softly, my voice steadier than I felt.
"Good," he said, his lips curving into a satisfied smile. "You can say it any time. But just know," he added, his tone lightening with a playful edge, "if I'm not satisfied, there's no gold at the end of the rainbow."
The analogy caught me off guard, blinking in mild disbelief at the unexpected humor in the moment. Still, I understood his point.
Steeling myself, I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as they found the hem of his briefs. His gaze never wavered, burning into mine with an intensity that sent a ripple of heat through me. Slowly, deliberately, I slid the fabric down, keeping my eyes locked on his, unwilling to look away as it fell past his knees.
His length brushed softly against the bottom of my chin, and I nearly gasped but managed to hold it in. Instead, I reached up with one hand, grasping the girthy mass in my palm. My fingers barely encircled it, and I realized just how nervous I felt again. I probably looked like I was studying it because Edward let out a deep grunt, breaking the silence.
"Everything alright?" he asked, his tone edged with concern.
I glanced up at him, fighting the urge to burst into laughter. His brows furrowed deeply, confusion flickering across his face, until I finally said, "Dude, you are big," the words spilling out of me before I could stop them. I was astonished—how could I not be?
He stared at me for a split second before breaking into a deep, hearty laugh, the sound rich and contagious. The tension in the air seemed to ease with it, and I found myself smiling despite my nerves.
"Thank you," he said, his laughter tapering off into a grin. His tone was still sultry but carried a playful edge now. "You're funny—and honest. I like that."
"Well, it's kind of hard not to be honest when faced with… that," I said, my eyes darting down before meeting his again. My cheeks burned, but I held his gaze, determined not to feel embarrassed.
He smirked, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Don't worry. You'll do just fine," he said, his voice low and reassuring. The confidence in his words sent a strange thrill through me, like he already knew something I didn't.
I wondered briefly how to even begin. My hands hovered awkwardly before finally reaching out to him again. I tried to move them over him with purpose, but the sensation was unfamiliar, felt like I was just pulling at skin at that point, and I couldn't help but second-guess myself. Pull yourself together, Leah.
I'd fucking watched porn before, I'm not a total noob. I know what to do. I'm just not so bold right now.
"You're overthinking it," he said gently, his voice breaking through my spiral of doubt. "Just do what feels right."
I let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Okay," I murmured, more to myself than to him.
My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and slowly, I parted them, taking the tip of him into my mouth. I let it slide over my tongue, pushing it back out and repeating the motion. His soft, breathy gasps were reassuring, a sign that I wasn't completely fumbling.
"That's good," he said softly, his voice a mix of encouragement and restraint. "Take your time."
His words settled something in me, and I felt myself relax a little more. I let my jaw slack, taking him deeper, mindful not to let my teeth graze him. My hands slid down to grip the edges of the seat between my legs as I adjusted my posture, spreading my knees slightly for balance.
"You're better than you give yourself credit for," he murmured, his voice heavy with approval. His hand moved to brush my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. The small gesture felt oddly intimate, even in a situation like this.
I glanced up at him, catching the look in his eyes—intense, focused, but still holding a softness that surprised me. It was almost enough to make me forget my nerves. Almost.
As I continued, a brief wave of panic hit me—I might gag. But instead of halting, the sensation only seemed to heighten the slickness of the motion. His breaths turned ragged, a clear sign that I was on the right track.
"Fuck, keep going," he hissed, his voice tight with restraint. His hand moved down to my breast, his thumb brushing over the lace-covered peak. The friction against my hardened nipple sent a jolt through me, leaving me breathless. He didn't stop there—his other hand gripped my hair again, guiding me, setting a quicker rhythm as my head bobbed along his length.
His reactions spurred me on, each quickened breath and soft groan fueling my confidence. My focus narrowed to the way his body responded, the power of knowing I was the one doing this to him.
Just as I started to find a rhythm, he pulled me off, his hand still tangled in my hair. My lips parted in surprise, but his heated gaze silenced any question I might have had.
"Get on the bed," he ordered, his voice rasping with raw need.
I didn't hesitate, rising to my feet and moving toward the bed. My heart raced as I climbed onto the soft sheets, wondering if I had done well enough to satisfy him so far. The way his eyes followed my every movement made me think I had.
"Wait," he suddenly commanded, his voice sharp and demanding.
I froze, still on my hands and knees at the edge of the bed.
"Fuck," he muttered, his arousal seeping through his tone.
Before I could react, a hard smack landed on my ass, the sting sending a shock of sensation through my entire body. I gasped, breathless at the sudden impact.
"You have a gorgeous ass," he said, his voice dark and full of approval.
I almost said "thank you," but the words got stuck in my throat as I felt his hands on me again. His fingers grasped the fabric of the bodysuit, tearing it with a brutal ease that echoed through the room.
The sound of the fabric ripping only heightened the tension, and I gasped again, a moan escaping me despite myself.
In an instant, I felt his warm breath on my most sensitive parts, and I couldn't help but thank my past self for being prepared—making sure I was waxed before tonight.
He slapped the sensitive flesh again, another hiss leaving me through my teeth. I felt his warm lips press up against the sore spot.
His mouth moved along my skin, till I felt him in the area I never thought I'd be yearning for anyone to be near. Edward's tongue danced lazily against my receptive nub. "Oh, I could eat you all night."
Now that thought made me relax. My arms moved under me, the side of my face pressed against the cool sheets. I held the inside of my thighs and buckled in for the ride of my life. His teeth nibbled lightly on me, making me shudder against the sensation.
His fingers slip all over my back side, moving closer to me. I could feel and hear the fabric ripping more. I was moaning freely, thrashing my hair around as I nudged myself against his face more, trying to get to my climax quicker. His hand gripped my ass hard, causing me to stop.
"You're impatient, eh?"
I couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped me.
He smacked my ass again, harder, but then began to rub smooth circles around it.
"I will tell you if I want you to move," his voice was raw, I could get drunk to it.
"Yes sir," I said, almost instinctively, but before I'd finished the sentence another sharp slap vibrated my other ass cheek. Skimming his hand against my reactive flesh.
"Master," he corrected.
Ah, shit, that's right.
"Yes, Master."
I almost smothered my face into the sheets.
Gosh I felt so dirty saying it. It was the first time I really had to say it tonight, in a sexual context, and it sure felt awkward until his mouth settled back onto my mound. One of his hands joining it, while the other moved along my
I was delighted.
His tongue began working that magic again, swirling and dipping into me.
I was overwhelmed with the urge to want to hump his face, but I resisted. I didn't want to get spanked again, but then again... It felt so good, and the way he'd touched it after, and then soothe me, was addicting.
My moaning wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop it. He ate me out so bountifully. I'd felt six intense and overwhelming sensations climb over me. It was exhilarating, and I didn't want him to ever stop. I was pretty sure I had been drooling all over myself. I was basically near tears.
His fingers fully replaced his mouth, rubbing and pinching, like earlier, but way more intense. I'd snuck a peek at him, straining my neck to see. His gaze soft, eyes tracing my body as though memorizing it. An ache flickered in his expression. His soft lips parted slightly, and for a moment he blinked slowly. Realizing I was watching, a sprawling grin appeared across his face. Edward's motions against my responsive nub never ceased.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head, I could hear myself humming and moaning. I was convulsing again, the overwhelming sensation making everything blur to the point I thought I might pass out.
When I opened my eyes, I realized—I had been out for a moment. I was lying on my side now, and Edward was sitting on the bed near my head, fanning me gently with a notebook.
What the hell?
"You passed out," he said with a sly grin.
My jaw dropped. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.
"Well, way to kill the mood," I muttered, trying to sit up. Eventually, I did, only to realize Edward was still mostly naked.
Noticing my gaze, he shot me a look. "You squirted before you passed out."
"What the fuck?" My face burned instantly, heat rushing to my cheeks.
"Seriously, it was... wow." His grin widened.
I pursed my lips, still stunned, but unable to fully ignore the absurdity of the situation.
"Best sight I've seen in quite some time," he added, chuckling softly.
I was still blushing, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. I hadn't realized something like this could make you pass out. He handed me a sealed bottle of water, his gesture calming. He told me to drink, then asked if I was hungry. I shook my head, quietly assuring him I was okay.
The room fell into a heavy silence as I took big gulps from the bottle. When I finished, he offered to take it from me, his gaze never leaving mine. After setting it aside, he slowly moved closer, his hands cradling my face with surprising tenderness. I couldn't escape the intensity of his deep emerald eyes—seeing them this close felt like I was getting lost in them.
"Can I kiss you?" His voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, as our faces lingered inches apart.
I nodded, giving in to the moment, my breath hitching as his lips brushed lightly over mine.
His breath smelled faintly of peppermint, a refreshing contrast to the warmth building between us. I parted my lips instinctively, and he pressed his lips firmly against mine, deepening the kiss. The softness of his mouth moved slowly at first, coaxing me to relax, before he kissed me more urgently, as if needing more. I could taste myself on him. Making that burning in my stomach grow immensely.
He pulled back slightly. "Do you want me inside you?" he asked.
I moaned at his words, envisioning that if his mouth and hands made me pass out, what would that thing do to me? But fuck, it felt so amazing before I passed out.
"Answer me," he commanded, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled me further away from his intoxicating lips. Instead, he trailed kisses down my neck, each one deliberate, until his mouth reached my breasts, igniting every nerve in my body.
"Yes," I gasped, my voice trembling with need.
His grip tightened slightly, a firm but controlled dominance that sent shivers through me. "Yes what?" he pressed, his tone laced with expectation.
For a moment, I hesitated, my mind racing before I remembered what he wanted—what he liked. "Yes, Master," I moaned, the words falling from my lips without a second thought.
Oh my goodness. I never knew I could feel like this.
The sensation was overwhelming, leaving me breathless, as though I'd crossed an invisible line into a place I never knew existed.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn't care.
Thanks for reading! Next smut filled chapter coming soon!
-A