Enraptured Page 9

  She desperately wanted to sleep with him, but he was playing it so cool she had to play a little harder to get, so she raised her eyebrows at him.

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  He shrugged. “Then don’t move in. No hard feelings.”

  But Roman didn’t feel as nonchalant as he sounded. He wanted Jessica, badly. If she agreed, he’d be able to finally focus his energy on something other than Elisabeth and his heartbreak. Focusing on Jessica would become his new priority.

  Although, since he’d gotten to know Jessica, he’d been thinking less and less about Elisabeth. As far as he could tell, that meant he was on the right path.

  “Would you like to discuss what a slave contract would entail?” he asked.

  She looked up at him, a shy smile crossing her beautiful lips, all of her lip gloss licked off since lunch. He liked that she didn’t need to wear heavy makeup. Her natural beauty shone through.

  “Okay. I suppose it would be a good idea to know exactly what I’d be agreeing to, sir.” She folded her knees up under her chin and waited.

  “I’m looking to fill a job position.”

  “A job?”

  “It’s the best way to explain what I want, and how you can benefit. I’m ready to have a full-time collared slave, and I think you would fit the bill. I’ve never once said that to a submissive before training her, and only once after—”

  “Elisabeth,” she interrupted.

  “Yes.” He frowned. “The point is that this is a big step, and one that I’m sort of jumping into. But I like you, Jessica. And I want to get to know you better. To train you to be the perfect submissive for me, and to be the perfect Dom for you.”

  “The perfect match,” Jessica mused, playing with a strand of her blonde hair. “Is there such a thing?”

  “I don’t know. I used to think so. Now I think that as long as we are clear about what we need from each other, about what each of us gains from the relationship, then yes. We can make each other . . . happy.”

  “Forgive me if this is out of line, sir, but you don’t usually seem happy. At the club, I mean.”

  “I’m not a particularly extroverted person. When I’m in a good mood, all people notice is that I’m not in a bad mood. But I’m looking to change that. Everyone else is partnered up. Everyone else is happy.” Resentment had crept into his voice, and he forced himself to relax. It wasn’t Trevor’s fault Elisabeth had chosen him. Or Marc’s that he finally found love with Lauren. “So why not us?” He patted the leather on the couch next to him, and she immediately got up and sat next to him.

  “This seems very sudden and scary. I don’t think I want to be a slave.”

  “I beg to differ. You can’t know until you’ve experienced it. If you found yourself miserable then you’d be free to go. I would never keep you here against your will.”

  “Then that means you could change your mind at any time. I could give up my apartment and my job and then be left with nothing.”

  “That’s why there would be a contract between us,” he countered. “I’ve always taken good care of my submissives. I have excellent referrals, if you’d like to speak to some of the women who have trained with me. But those women moved on, and I want you to consider this a more . . . permanent arrangement. Which is why you should consider it a job, one with incredible benefits.”

  “Benefits.”

  Jessica laughed, as if being a slave with benefits was a crazy thought. But she was too new to understand. He had to make her see.

  “I’ll pay for everything, of course. Your student loans, gone. And I’d like you to go back to school to find a major you do enjoy. Just because drama wasn’t for you doesn’t mean school isn’t for you. You need an education.”

  “Why would a slave need to be educated?”

  He noted that she’d dropped the “sir,” whether intentionally or not he couldn’t tell. But it was clear she was taking the conversation seriously, at least, to be asking so many questions. Good. He didn’t want her going into this uninformed.

  “A slave doesn’t need to be a college graduate, of course. But my slave would. Just as we’re sitting here talking now, I imagine we will be talking quite a bit. I’d like you to know what you’re talking about.”

  “Ouch.”

  Roman sighed. “I apologize. Obviously I don’t think you’re dumb or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  She looked at the small strip of light coming in through the window. He’d noticed she opened the curtain earlier, but he enjoyed seeing the way the thin rays of sunshine played along her hair, so he let it be.

  “It would take a long time,” she said softly, “but eventually I could pay off my own student loans, sir.”

  “There are other benefits,” he said. “I can tell you are a natural submissive. In embracing your submission, you’ll find freedom. You’ll be able to let go of your self-esteem issues because you’ll be mine, and you’ll know that I always choose to surround myself with the best.”

  “But that’s just it, Roman. I’m not the best. I’m not even particularly good. I’m just a girl who sells overpriced lemonade at a BDSM club!”

  Roman frowned. He needed to start this off the right way. Without a word, he grasped her hand in his and pulled her over his knee.

  The word “What—” started to come out of her mouth, but she stopped herself and merely looked at him in surprise.

  “I told you I’d spank you if you spoke like that about yourself. Stop me now if you want to.”

  A mixture of fear and desire glowed in her eyes. “I’m not stopping you, sir.”

  Roman lifted her dress, revealing her white cotton panties, and pulled them down. Fuck, she had an amazing ass. It was still a bit red from her earlier paddling.

  He brought his hand up and spanked her, a quick, harsh spank that let her know he meant business. Jessica gasped but didn’t move her legs, just tucked her cheek against the couch, looking at him as he spanked her again, once on each cheek. She didn’t make a sound.

  But a spanking needed to hurt to make the point, so he continued until she started sobbing, dry, tearless sobs that sounded like quick, sharp moans. His cock hardened at the sound, at the feel of her pliable flesh beneath his hand.

  When he felt she’d had enough, he pulled her panties up and sat her up again, wrapping his arm around her slender shoulders. He wanted to comfort her, but wasn’t sure how, so he held her close, feeling her body heat against his and breathing steadily, hoping his erection would go away.

  “Thank you, sir,” she whispered.

  His heart raced. She’d thanked him for the spanking. It was so clear that she would flourish under his care. Could she see that? Did she know?

  “Please—consider moving into my home as my collared submissive, Jessica. It’s not a proposal I’ve ever given lightly before.”

  “What would I have to do?”

  “Obey me. Submit to punishments if you don’t, like just now. And agree to train with me to bring out your own desires.” He paused to let his words sink in. “Did you like that spanking, Jessica?”

  She blushed, a pretty pink that came up through her cheeks. “In the moment, no. But immediately after you stopped, I wished you hadn’t. That probably doesn’t even make sense.”

  “It does. Are you . . . aroused?”

  And then Jessica did something he absolutely wasn’t expecting. She took his hand in hers and placed it under her skirt, at the junction of her thighs. “You’re welcome to see for yourself, sir.”

  Roman fought to keep his hand steady as he felt underneath her panties, his fingers running across her pussy. She was soaking wet with desire. In a moment of need, he pushed his fingers deep within her. Jessica’s expression turned to one of passion as he found her clitoris and rubbed it in tight circles, wanting to reward her for her submission
. She kept her hand over his, soft moans escaping her lips, not unlike the sounds she made when he’d spanked her.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped, and he rubbed faster, watching her face, her eyes closed, her long lashes brushing her face.

  “As my slave, you’ll have as many orgasms as I want you to, and you won’t be allowed to hold back from me. If you do, I’ll tie you down and force you to come again and again. Whenever I want to, I’m going to fuck you,” he said, thrusting two fingers deep inside her once more, pressing against her g-spot until she bucked against his hand. “And at the end of the day, you’ll either sleep in my bed, or on the floor, depending on how I think you should be rewarded.”

  She came hard, her juices covering his hand, but he held his thumb against her sensitive, swollen clit, pressing it, making her face scrunch up tight as her post-orgasmic body tried to make sense of the overstimulation.

  “I’ll give you everything, Jessica. I don’t want to be alone anymore. And you don’t want to live in your shithole apartment anymore. Stay with me. Go back to school. Live here, at my estate. Please.”

  He’d never begged before, but he found it surprisingly easy to do when her eyes were closed, her pussy captured by his hand, her mouth open in ecstasy.

  “Yes. I’ll do it. I’ll be your slave, Roman. Sir.” She opened her eyes and looked at him, breathing hard.

  “And you’ll make me happy,” he said. He meant for it to be a command. An order. Instead, it had the ring of a prayer.

  “I will. I’ll make you happy again, sir.”

  His felt perilously close to tears, a weakness he hadn’t indulged in for a long time. He blinked, forcing the emotion away. No emotions. It was purely a business agreement. Just like acquiring a new company to shape into an asset that would bring him years of profit.

  And Jessica would be better off with him. He’d do everything in his power to make that true.

  “I’ll give you everything,” he whispered again, and she silenced him with a kiss, a sweet innocent kiss that left him feeling as if he were taking a lamb to slaughter.

  He shouldn’t be collaring this girl, keeping her for himself. But fuck if he felt like he had a choice.

  Jessica would be his salvation.

  Chapter Seven

  Jessica walked through her tiny studio apartment, packing her things into the new Louis Vuitton luggage Roman had given her. She packed a picture of her parents from last Christmas. They still didn’t know. How would they react if she told them the truth? They didn’t even know she’d dropped out of school, much less that she was going back on a full ride from Roman Chase, albeit with a new major.

  Psychology. It made sense to study what intrigued her. How the mind worked, what made it tick. What was pathological and what was merely human behavior. She’d enjoy it, especially if she got to study at night while sitting at Roman’s feet. His estate was only a train ride away from the city, but he insisted his chauffer would drive her every day to classes at New York University.

  Jessica had worried she wouldn’t get back in again, but apparently money talks. Roman hadn’t been surprised at all when the school agreed to let her attend classes again, starting immediately with the summer session.

  The idea of living with Roman, of being his . . . collared submissive . . . it all seemed so intense. Still, she had to give it a shot. If she didn’t, she’d be stuck in the same place she’d been before he’d graced her with his attention and money. And she’d always wonder what he could have taught her, and about the pleasure he could have given her.

  Roman. Even thinking his name filled her with desire.

  He’s told her that she needed to call her parents and let them know they should stop sending her money. She knew she had to obey—but honestly, she’d rather face Roman’s disappointment than her parents’.

  On the other hand, he’d said if she didn’t obey him there would be consequences.

  Damn it. She zipped the leather suitcase and looked around at the bare walls. She’d leave the futon and mini-shelves behind. No need for them at Roman’s.

  Finally, she picked up her phone and dialed. Roman’s driver picked up and agreed to pick her up in front.

  In Roman’s guest room that evening, Jessica unpacked her clothing. More thick curtains covered the windows. She pushed them aside, allowing the moonlight to fall across the hardwood floor. Better. She liked seeing a bit of nature, especially in such a modern architecture.

  “Jessica.” His voice came from behind her, at the door.

  “Yes, sir?” She started to rise but he made a gesture for her to stay on her knees.

  “I have a collar for you.” His tone was soft, like a lover’s. “No one’s ever worn my collar, do you understand?”

  Jessica didn’t think she’d ever make sense of why, after a lifetime of going through women, Roman chose her to wear his collar. But he had. Why question what was undoubtedly the best thing that had ever happened to her?

  “I’m honored, sir.”

  He loomed over her, so very tall, so dark and angular. Just like his home.

  “I want you to start off your time in my home by wearing this. I think seeing it on you, and you wearing it, will help set us on the right path for our relationship.”

  He held the black leather collar in his right hand, dangling. It was thick but looked supple. It had a lock.

  Her breath caught in her throat as he wrapped it around her neck and clicked the lock into place.

  The collar would have been comfortable, except for the fact that she couldn’t take it off without Roman’s help, with his key. That was scary.

  “Looks good on you,” Roman said.

  On her knees, she could see his cock bulging in his pants, and she smiled. “Thank you, sir. May I see?”

  He helped her stand, turning her to look in the mirror situated above the dresser. Her All-American, pure-as-apple-pie look had vanished. The thick black collar brought out her eyes. Made her face seem thinner, more thoughtful somehow. And it made her look . . . owned.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I honestly don’t know yet, sir. I feel like I’m wearing a collar I haven’t earned. If I’m as submissive as you say, then it should feel natural to be owned by you. But I’m confused.”

  He nodded, and wrapped his arms around her from behind, watching her face in the mirror. God, he was handsome. So handsome. And his arms around her, leaning against his muscular chest, felt . . . right. This was where she was meant to be, in Roman Chase’s arms.

  “Thank you for the suitcase,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful. You deserve beautiful things.” He kissed her neck on the spot just below the collar, igniting a flame of desire within her.

  It would take a while before she’d be able to believe him. But he seemed so sincere.

  “Lean forward,” he whispered, and she did, bracing herself on the dresser, watching his every move in the mirror.

  Watching him lower his pants, releasing his hard cock. She licked her lips. They were finally going to make love. Her body ached for it, needed it.

  “I’ve fantasized about this, sir,” she admitted, and gasped when he pulled her panties down with her jeans.

  Not all the way off, just to mid-thigh, restraining her from opening her legs.

  “Me too.” Without another word, he sheathed his length in latex and pressed the head of his cock against her wet pussy. His muscular torso leaned against her back as he pushed forward, forcing her down farther onto the dresser-top.

  “Tell me you like this,” he ordered.

  “I love it, sir.”

  Even though he was behind her, she was able to look into his reflection in the mirror, heightening their connection. He thrust hard into her, making her cry out. It had been a long time since she’d had sex, and her vaginal walls
tightened in protest. He held himself inside her until her pussy acclimated to his size.

  “Good girl,” he murmured, and drew almost all the way out before thrusting into her again, deeper this time.

  Again and again he fucked her, staring at her face in the mirror, and at her collar. When she put her head down, he pulled it back up by her hair, a primal act that brought her to climax with a long, shuddering orgasm. She didn’t want to see her orgasm face, but Roman held her head up, forcing her to look. It made her orgasm that much more powerful.

  His cock hurt her, the way he rammed her from behind so deeply, but it was pain married to pleasure. Erotic pain. She couldn’t help her moans, tried to stifle them against her palm, but every hard thrust and subsequent cry seemed to urge him on.

  Every time she thought he was almost done, he kept going. How could a man continue for so long? She didn’t want it to end, despite how sore she knew she’d be after. He was fucking her like she was a vessel for his pleasure, as if it didn’t matter if she was in pain as long as he got the sensation he craved. Why did that turn her on so much?

  Maybe she was a natural sub after all . . .

  Finally, after what seemed like an hour of hard fucking but was probably closer to twenty minutes, he came inside her. His orgasm face was a sight to behold. He grimaced like a man in pain, and growled like a caveman. His long brown hair fell into his eyes and he threw his head back, holding her neck just over the collar.

  In that moment, she was his completely. His to do whatever he wanted to. She grinned at herself in the mirror. It was a good feeling. And you know what?

  The collar looked great on her, too.

  When he pulled out, she expected him to raise her jeans, but he held her against the dresser and spanked her hard. His hand against her ass cheeks brought a new level of erotic pain to the experience, and the grin dropped from her face. It was too much, the spanking. It hurt. Within a minute tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she didn’t safeword. Wouldn’t safeword.

  If this was being with Roman, then she’d let him do to her whatever he wished.