Enraptured Page 10
“I’m going to teach you to love this if it’s the last thing I do,” he said, spanking her even more. She was crying so hard now she couldn’t respond. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, that she wasn’t fit to wear his collar after all, he reached around with his other hand and rubbed her clit.
She came so hard the sensations of pain and orgasmic pleasure formed one beautiful flood of adrenaline within her, and Jessica would have fallen to the floor if not for Roman’s strong arms holding her in place.
Aftershocks ran through her, making her shudder with tiny climaxes over and over. He pulled her panties and jeans up, a small smile on his face as they both looked at her face in the mirror. Her eye makeup was smudged from her tears, her hair disheveled from his hands tangling in it.
And yet, she’d never felt sexier in her entire life.
“Thank you, sir,” she whispered.
Roman led Jessica into his bedroom late that night. She was naked save for her collar and the bruises on her ass.
“What time do you have to be at school tomorrow?” he asked, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Not till eleven, sir.”
“I expect you to study every day for at least two hours, more if needed. No messing around with your education.”
“Yes, sir. I’m really excited about my new major, actually.” She watched him as he continued to undress. “Are we going to sleep together again, sir?”
He wanted to, desperately. But he needed to give her time to recover from earlier. He knew he’d been physically hard on her, but he wanted to claim her as his own. To show her what that meant.
“You’ll be sleeping on the floor,” he said, and got into the bed.
Jessica lay down on the hard floor, naked, without a complaint. The poor girl was so exhausted she actually fell asleep before him. Sleep was hard to come by lately. Too much was going on, and the bed was too big. Too empty.
He loved his custom-made bondage bed that included a headboard with numerous straps and places to hook restraints to. But the problem with a bondage bed was it felt especially lonely when no one was in it but him.
Roman sighed. Why torture himself to make a point? He got out of bed and gently picked her up in his arms, holding her against his chest. Her eyes fluttered open, but he shushed her.
“Go back to sleep.”
She snuggled against his chest, warming him, and he placed her in the bed with him, holding her against his body.
“Thank you, sir,” she murmured, and he kissed her hair. The honey strands seemed to glow in the night, and he fell asleep to the even sounds of her breath.
His last thought before sleep overtook him was a prayer, the first in a long time.
God, make her want to stay. I don’t want to be alone anymore.
“You did what?” Trevor gaped at Roman in shock.
“Oh give me a break,” Roman said. “You did practically the same thing with Elisabeth.”
“It was completely different,” Elisabeth said, looking over at him across their breakfast table.
Roman had waited until Jessica left for class before calling Trevor and asking if he could stop by for coffee. He was bursting with his good news and couldn’t wait to tell him. Of course, seeing Trevor now meant, more often than not, seeing Elisabeth as well. And their reaction was not what he’d expected.
“How was it any different?”
“Roman,” she said, shaking her head. “I was already in the lifestyle. I’d been another man’s sub for three years before I even met Trevor. And he waited until we both knew for sure that we were a match before offering me his collar.” She touched the gold chain around her neck.
“I know I want Jessica in my home, and she wants me. She agreed.” Roman sipped his coffee and waited for the rebuttal.
“Jessica doesn’t even know what she’s agreeing to,” Trevor said, “and neither do you. You barely know the girl.”
“I told her what it meant, and I showed her as well. Several times.” He smirked, and Elisabeth rolled her eyes.
“Why not at least let her train with you before offering her a collar?” she asked.
“So she can leave me for another Dominant immediately after?” he shot back.
Elisabeth, at least, had the good grace to look away.
Trevor gave him a warning look, and Roman sighed. “I’m sorry. Please just be happy for me. For us. I was hoping that maybe you girls could be friends. It’ll be good for her to have friends who understand what being a collared submissive means.”
“You know if she tells anyone at school they’re going to think you’re abusing her, right?” she asked.
“And her parents are fine with this?” Trevor asked, nearly at the same time.
“Her parents are irrelevant,” Roman said. “She may look like a teenager, but she’s an adult.”
“An adult who’s still accepting money from her parents,” Elisabeth said.
Roman paused. What?
“Oh, you didn’t know that? Did you know she hasn’t even told her parents she dropped out of NYU?”
“I do,” he said, relieved to finally have an answer. “I told her she needed to tell her parents the truth.”
“What did they say?” Trevor asked. He’d set his coffee aside and was ignoring his bowl of fruit for the conversation.
Fuck. Roman had never followed up. “I’ll find out later, when she gets home. After she’s done studying.”
“Well, at least she’s back in school,” Elisabeth muttered.
“Be happy for me,” he said. It sounded harsher than he’d intended. “Please.”
Elisabeth, the only woman in the world he’d thought he could be with, held his hand across the table. For the first time, though, her touch didn’t ignite his sorrow, or his passion. He had Jessica, and Jessica filled the hole in his life that Elisabeth left when she chose Trevor.
Thank God.
“We’re happy if you’re happy,” she said. “And if Jessica’s happy.”
“Thank you.” Roman stood. “You guys think I’m making a huge mistake, don’t you.”
Trevor shook his head. “It’s not that. You’re taking a financially vulnerable woman and offering her the world. You’re paying for her education. You paid off her student loans. You’re paying for her to live with you, for her to be chauffeured around. I like Jessica. I do. But I worry that she’s blinded by your money.”
Roman scoffed. “She’s not like that.”
“You barely know this girl,” Elisabeth said. “How can you say that with such certainty?”
He didn’t reply, because she had a point. His refusal to see Jessica as a potential gold-digger was based more on his own need to have her be the submissive he desired, and less about how well he actually knew what was going on in her head.
“We’re not kids anymore, Roman,” Trevor said. “But you picked a girl still in college! Why would a girl like that be with a man a decade and a half older than her when she’s pretty enough to have anyone she wants in Manhattan? You don’t think all the law students at NYU aren’t hitting on her, asking her out?”
The realization hit Roman hard, in the gut. He hadn’t thought of that. He was so used to women throwing themselves at him that he never stopped to ask why a girl like Jessica would do the same.
“I really like her. And she’s a natural submissive.” He gripped the back of the chair. “She wants to be my sub, her body can’t lie.”
“Just ask yourself if she would have agreed if you weren’t offering her so much to gain financially,” Trevor said quietly. “That’s all I ask. Keep your eyes open.”
Fuck. But he still couldn’t—wouldn’t—see Jessica as a gold-digger. She was too sweet for that.
“It’s not like I’m marrying her,” Roman said. “She won’t get any stake in the business by living wit
h me. She’s just staying with me as my submissive. It’s good for both of us. And if I have to pay to get what I need, then so be it.”
Elisabeth and Trevor exchanged a glance.
Roman frowned. “What do I care if I’m giving her some money? Money is easy to come by.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve made enough money since I came here this morning to pay for an entire year of her tuition. And that’s just from my private holdings, not our company. I think I can handle spending money on something I actually want.”
“She’s not a thing, Roman,” Elisabeth interrupted. “She’s a real person, a girl whose life you just completely took over without any premeditation on what that might mean for her. For both of you.”
Roman shook his head. “Thank you for the coffee.”
He walked past their house-staff, out of their home, and to his waiting car. It had been stupid of him to expect them to understand. The only one who understood what they were trying to build, what they could give each other, was Jessica.
She gave him peace of mind, she gave him sanity. She gave him herself. He’d give her all the gold in the world if she wanted it.
Because ultimately, his money meant nothing if he was going to die alone.
But he couldn’t help being wary after the pain he’d gone through with Elisabeth. Just don’t get too attached.
In class that day, Jessica felt the other students staring at her. They were looking at her collar.
Well, it didn’t exactly match her preppy clothes. She wasn’t a goth chick who’d look normal wearing a black leather choker. It almost made her wish she could wear a turtleneck, but that would make even less sense in the summer.
Still, she didn’t want to take it off. It reminded her of what Roman was giving her. Knowing that he expected her to attend class and do well made her focus more on the lectures. Made her study harder.
It was strange to think that she’d spent so much time hoping Roman would notice her, wishing he’d make even one of her fantasies come true—and suddenly she had been handed every single one on a silver platter.
But while the idea of being owned by him made her aroused, the reality of wearing a physical collar around her neck while she was in public was nothing like the fantasy. Before, her kinky desires were private. Now, they were written on her neck in leather.
But Jessica wanted to please him, to make him glad he’d chosen her. And if that meant wearing his collar to class and dealing with the stares, so be it.
A guy came up to her on break. “What is that?” he asked, pointing to her neck. “Is that like a dog collar?”
“No,” she said, touching her neck, hoping to gain strength from the material encircling her skin. “It’s a gift from a dear friend.”
The girl next to her overheard their conversation and spoke up. “It’s kinda nineties, the choker look, don’t you think?”
Jessica groaned inwardly. “Actually, for your information, I was very ill and the doctors had to put, um, one of those tubes in my throat.”
“A tracheotomy?” the guy asked, his look changing to one of concern.
“Yes, a tracheotomy,” Jessica lied. She’d have to remember that word. “I have a nasty scar, so my friend got me this to cover it.”
“Wow, I’m so sorry,” the girl said. “It’s actually really cool-looking. I think the nineties had some great fashion, you know.”
“Thanks. Don’t mention it to anyone, okay?” Her stomach churned. Another lie to keep track of on top of the ones she’d told her parents. What would Roman think if he knew?
He’d hate it, most likely. Roman was such a blunt, honest person. He didn’t care what other people thought about him or his—now their—lifestyle.
For the rest of the day, though, no one looked at her collar. They seemed to be avoiding it, purposefully focusing on her eyes when she spoke to them. News must have spread.
Jessica knocked on Roman’s office door after she got home from school.
“Come in,” he said, and she walked in and knelt at his chair, waiting for him to speak to her.
Roman smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. “How was school?”
“I need to tell you something, sir.” The words came out choked. She didn’t want to tell him, but if she didn’t she’d feel terrible until she did. “A confession, one which I fully understand might be reason for a punishment from you. I consent ahead of time to anything you want to do to me.”
Roman’s brow creased. “Okay. Tell me.”
She took a breath. She’d feel better once she told him and let him give her some sort of penance. “I haven’t told my parents that I changed majors. Or that you’re paying for my tuition and everything else now. They don’t know I’ve moved. And I lied at school and told everyone the collar is to cover a . . . a tracheotomy scar.”
Roman’s face was unreadable. “Are you embarrassed to wear my collar, Jessica?”
“No, sir. At least, I thought I wasn’t. But people keep staring at it.”
To her horror, Roman didn’t look angry the way she’d thought he would. Instead, he appeared . . . sad.
“I always imagined the woman who wore my collar would be proud of it,” he said. “That she’d tell anyone who asked that it symbolized her commitment to submission to her Master. You could have told them that, but you didn’t.”
“No, sir. I wish I had.” She grasped his hand, hoping to spark their connection. To remind him why he’d chosen her in the first place. “Lying felt wrong, which is why I knew I needed to tell you about it.”
“Would you prefer to not wear the collar?” he asked.
It was a test, she knew it was a test. If she said she didn’t want to wear his collar, then he’d think she was only with him for his money. That was easy to see. She couldn’t give him a reason to doubt her intentions, even if her intentions were unclear even to herself.
“I want to wear your collar, sir. I do. And please, sir, I want you to punish me for lying. I need you to, please sir.”
“Stand up,” he ordered.
She swallowed hard and stood. What would he do?
“Call your parents and tell them what’s going on. You don’t need to tell them about BDSM. I understand wanting to keep your sex life private from your parents. But they need to know that you moved, for fuck’s sake. They need to know you don’t need their hard-earned money. And they need to know you changed majors so they know you’ve chosen a different career path. Otherwise you’ll end up living a lie.”
“Yes, sir.”
He reached into her front pocket and plucked her cell phone out, slapping it into her open palm. “Now.”
Jessica prayed they wouldn’t answer, but of course her mother did, on the second ring.
“Hi sweetie!” her mom answered. It was good to hear her voice, especially since she’d been avoiding talking to her parents since she’d dropped out. The few times she did speak to them, she’d had to get off the phone quickly before they started asking too many questions.
“Good news, Mom,” Jessica said, hoping that she could frame it the right way. She heard a click as her father got on the line. “Hey Dad. So, first I just want to thank you for sending me checks every month to help cover my rent, but I moved in with a friend and I’m not paying rent since he doesn’t need it—”
“He?” her father interrupted. “Who’s ‘he’?”
“Um, my boyfriend Roman. He has a house outside of the city. So I don’t need you to send money anymore, okay?”
“You moved in with your boyfriend?” Her mother sounded shocked. “Who is this Roman? I’ve never even heard you mention him before, and now all of a sudden you two are living together?”
Jessica sighed. May as well get the rest of it over with. “I left the drama program and took some time off, which is when I met Roman. And he convinced me to go back to school, so I a
m. Studying psychology. And yes, we’re living together. He has a house and he invited me, and it just makes financial sense, right?”
“No, not right,” her father said. “You don’t move in with a man because it makes financial sense. You do it because you’re married to him. And do not take that as an invitation to run out and elope.”
“We’re not getting married,” she said hurriedly.
“Oh great,” her mom sighed. “Like that’s supposed to make us feel better?”
“I’m not paying for you to go to school while you’re living with a man,” her father announced.
“Oh, honey, stop it,” she heard her mom say.
“No. I will not. She can come home,” her dad said.
“I’m still on the line,” Jessica said, annoyed they were talking about her future as if she had no say. “Dad, I love you, but Roman’s paying my tuition. I don’t need your money at all. And . . . I’m staying here. With him.”
“Is he there?” her dad asked. “I want to speak to this Roman character.”
Jessica looked back at Roman, who clearly could hear her father’s booming voice through the phone. “Help,” she mouthed silently to him.
Roman took the phone from her hand. “Hello, Mr. Vaughn. This is Roman Chase.”
Jessica didn’t need to strain to hear her father on the other end of the line. His voice was as clear as if he stood right there.
“Roman Chase, huh?” her father asked. “I think we need to meet, if you’re living with my daughter. Paying her tuition. Convincing her to change career paths without even consulting us. Tell me something. How old are you, Roman?”
Jessica gasped at his rudeness.
“I’m thirty-five, sir,” Roman answered mildly.
There was no response. Her parents had hung up the phone.
“Well, that went well,” he said, handing her back her cell phone.
“I’m so sorry, Roman. I really am. And I didn’t mean it when I said it just made financial sense. I moved in because I want to be here, to be yours, sir.”
“It doesn’t matter why you’re here, as long as you’re happy,” he said, pulling her onto his lap. “Are you happy?”