"Okay," I say and nod, even though I feel rather uncomfortable with the turn this conversation has taken.

  I had never even considered the topic of marriage. I just wanted to know why he was interested in me, and if it was because of my resemblance to Sheila...

  And I guess I know now. He doesn't want a normal relationship, a traditional relationship – and he doesn't want to talk about his past relationship with Sheila, for whatever reason. Maybe she really hurt him, broke his heart. And maybe today really wasn't the right day to talk about this. Maybe it is too soon.

  "You do have a lot of similarities with her," he admits, smiling at me. "But can't a guy have a specific taste in women? Why does it have to be something weird?"

  He observes me cautiously, noticing how I raise my eyebrows in doubt.

  "I can give you a lot," he adds.

  "What if I don't want what you can give me?" I ask, all of a sudden feeling as if he is trying to use his money to his advantage. Didn't he say himself that he knew his wealth could not impress me?

  "Do you want more nights like the one we shared together?" He asks. "More dominance? More pleasure?"

  I blush under his stern unyielding gaze. He is so fucking handsome, and if anything, that expression only makes him even more irresistible.

  "Yes, I think I do," I whisper. "I think I would love that."

  A faint smile appears on his face. "Good. Very good."

  We both sip from our cappuccinos and remain silent for a while. I am beginning to hope that this date extends further than just coffee – even though I would have to face Yuka's commentary upon my return home.

  "Only nights like this," he adds. "I would want to take care of you, invite you, spoil you. Because I can and because it gives me pleasure to do so. Do you think you – and your conscience – can handle that?"

  I grin slyly at him. "Well, would you at least allow me to pay for my coffee?"

  It was meant to be a joke, but his response is earnest.

  "No," he says, his face as stern as ever. "I want to take care of you. I know what I want – and I know how to make you give it to me. But it's not splitting monetary cost, just because you don't think you deserve to be treated like a princess when I –”

  "That's not it," I interrupt, incited by the word 'princess.' "I just don't think I could be comfortable with this. You paying for everything."

  "Then learn to be comfortable with it," he simply says. "This is how I want to do things. And I would like to remind you of my favorite rule: No arguments."

  He winks at me and I lower my head with a sheepish smile. All right, even I have to admit that it is getting ridiculous to fight this any further. He is stupidly rich, and if it makes him happy to pay, he shall pay.

  "As long as you don't think I owe you anything," I carefully add.

  He raises his eyebrows. "Oh, you'll owe me. But not in the way you think. I have another set of rules that will be implemented as time goes by – and you will step out of line again and again as you will learn slowly."

  He leans forward and takes my face between his hands, gently stroking my cheeks with his thumbs as he forces me to look into his dark, mysterious eyes.

  "There will be rewards and endless pleasure for you," he whispers. "And sweet punishments for every mistake you make. Do you understand?"

  There it is again. That voice, that face. His soft and loving hands. My heart is racing and even my eyes appear to flutter as I open myself to his words.

  I want him. I want to be with him. And at this moment, I couldn't care less about anything than is not directly related to this. To this tension between us and the endless possibilities that open up in front of my eyes.

  What on earth made me think I could come out here and have 'just coffee' with this man?

  Why would I want just that?

  CHAPTER XIII

  Nicky

  All good intentions and thoughts about how to explain this to my nosy roommate are forgotten when we walk up to the hotel room. It is the same hotel as last time and – as it turns out – even the same room. Why we cannot simply go to his place remains a mystery to me, but I decide to leave that question for later. It is a nice hotel after all, and I wouldn't mind using that extravagant whirlpool after our play session again.

  He lets me enter first and I stand next to the bed, looking at him with anticipation. Even without touching each other, it feels as if we are fueling the air between us with fire.

  He approaches me, displaying a gentle smile as he leans down to plant an innocent kiss on my lips.

  "I don't have endless time today," he says in a low voice, laced with foreboding. "Which is a pity, because there are endless things I want to do to you."

  My reply comes as a desperate moan as he starts planting gentle kisses along my neck.

  He takes a step back and turns me around so that I am facing the bed, and then he takes a seat. He leans back, looking up at me with a satisfied smile and says just one word. "Undress."

  I blush, feeling awkward already just standing in the middle of the room, feeling exposed even with my clothes on. He does nothing but sit in front of me, observing and noticing every little move I make, every reaction I show to his commands.

  "What are you waiting for?" he urges. "Undress. Now."

  "Mhm," I mumble and lower my head, unable to make eye contact with him any longer.

  That does not please him. He suddenly jumps up from the bed and grabs me at the back of my head. I gasp in surprise as he yanks me forward onto the bed, forcing me on all fours on the edge of it.

  Before I fully realize what is happening, I can feel two sharp slaps burning on my behind. I yelp, but more out of surprise than pain. His spankings were forceful, but they must have hurt him more than they did me since I am still wearing my jeans.

  "When I tell you to do something," he reminds me, "you not only do it without hesitation, you also reply with 'Yes, Sir.' Did you forget already?"

  "No, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir," I blurt out.

  "Next time you forget, there won't be any pants protecting that sexy ass," he adds. "I can't wait."

  Even I have to smirk at that last remark. Of course it will happen. We both know it. And in a way, I am looking forward to it just as much as he is. Maybe more.

  He lets go of me and orders me to stand up.

  "Now, let's try this again," he says, placing himself on the bed, facing me as I stand before him. "Undress."

  "Yes, Sir," I reply through gritted teeth.

  "And look at me while you do it," he adds. "Count this as an extra turn, because you failed during your first attempt."

  Damn. This is not making it any easier. On the contrary. But that appears to be the point.

  "Yes, Sir," I purr.

  My eyes remain linked to his as I slip out of my ballerina shoes, trying to look as elegant as possible while I do it. A faint smirk appears on his face when he sees me struggling to keep my balance.

  I blush with embarrassment. I never cared much for being careful or elegant with my movements, but right now, my clumsiness is making this a lot harder than it should be.

  I start unbuttoning my jeans. His eyes are still on mine. They are a tight fit and it is not easy to get myself out of them while still looking somewhat sexy. He seems to be satisfied with my efforts, though. His smile broadens when I pull my top over my head.

  I pause for a moment, checking for confirmation while I stand in front of him, wearing nothing but my underwear.

  "Go on," he purrs. "Everything off. I want you naked."

  I gulp. "Yes, Sir."

  This shouldn't be so hard. He has seen me naked before. We had sex, we shared a bath together, I felt no shame when I rummaged around the room last time, collecting my clothes while he was watching me.

  But this exposure is different. I can feel myself tense up as I unfasten my bra and free my breasts in front of him. I am almost offended when he shows no reaction.

  I take a deep breath as I reach for the last piece of clothing, my black panties. I slide my thumbs underneath the waistband on each side and slowly ease them down while my eyes are obediently fixed on his.

  Done.

  My clothes lay pooled in a little pile next to me as I stand naked and exposed and he scans my entire body with his hungry eyes.

  "Beautiful," he murmurs. "You have no reason to be nervous or tense, Nicky. No reason to feel ashamed about this perfect body. You are one of a kind."

  One of a kind? Did he say that to reassure me that I am enough, that I am not here only as a reminder of his ex-girlfriend? Or is he being sincere and building on all the charming things he said during our first night together?

  Either way, his words humble me and make me feel special.

  "Don't move," he instructs as he gets up from the bed and steps forward until he is standing directly in front of me.

  "Are you enjoying yourself?" he asks, his eyes filtered with honest concern.

  I cast him a shy smile. "Yes, Sir."

  "Let's see if you really are," he utters, shifting his right hand between my legs.

  I flinch as his warm fingers brush the skin between my thighs. I am so tense and consumed by a unique kind of arousal that even the slightest touch feels like an electrical current.

  A faint moan escapes my lips when his hand moves further upwards, soon arriving at my hot center.

  "Spread your legs," he orders.

  "Yes, Sir," I breathe, still keeping eye contact.

  "Good girl," he murmurs, smiling at me with approval.

  His fingers wander further, soon reaching my folds and gently spreading them apart. He lets one finger slide between them and grins as he finds what he has been looking for.

  "Oh, you really are a good girl for me," he says as his finger explores my wetness.

  I stare up at him. My breathing accelerates and changes into erratic gasps as he continues to navigate the most sensitive area between my legs. I instinctively lean in further, yearning for body contact with him, but he shakes his head.

  "Don't move," he repeats.

  "Yes, Sir," I reply, biting my lower lip as I fight to withstand the urge of touching him, getting closer to him. The tension is almost unbearable – and his fingers only discover more and more to play with. He lets one of them slide inside me. Then two.

  I squirm and moan as he starts fucking me with two fingers while I remain standing in the middle of the room – completely naked while he hasn't taken off a single piece of clothing.

  He leans in closer to me, planting a kiss on my right cheek before he starts whispering in my ear.

  "I am not going to fuck you today," he says. "But I am going to make you come. On my command. Don't you dare come a second earlier than I tell you. Understand?"

  I hastily nod. "Yes, Sir."

  To be told that he is not going to fuck me tonight feels like a punishment right now – while his hands are working magic between my legs.

  He bends them inside me, pushing against my mound from the inside while he presses his thumb against my clit and gently starts to massage it.

  I groan and squirm when he finds that sweet spot shortly behind my entrance. My eyes roll back into my head while he is having his way with me, torturing my nerves with penetration and a kind of stimulation that would be too strong under normal circumstances, but feels divine in my current state of arousal.

  I am panting and blinking dizzily when he removes his hand, holding me up at the shoulder so I don't fall over.

  "Good girl," he whispers. "I love how responsive you are – and how well you can pull yourself together."

  "Thank you, Sir," I breathe.

  My vision is blurry and my mind only halfway present when he leads me to the bed.

  "Lie down," he says with a soft but stern voice. "On your back, legs spread."

  "Yes, Sir," I whisper and do as I am told.

  "Hold your legs up at your knees," he commands after he has placed himself between my legs. "Present yourself to me."

  I blush and close my eyes in embarrassment as I follow his order.

  "Beautiful," he assesses. "What a good, obedient girl you are."

  His words make my center tingle with excitement. I know he is not going to fuck me, but I yearn for his hand. I am close to begging for him to do what he has been doing while we were still standing up.

  Luckily, he does not wait long enough for me to actually beg. My eyes are still closed so I don't realize what is happening until I can feel his tongue on my folds. He licks along the inner side of each of them, moaning with relish as he does.

  I squirm and throw my head back into my neck, egging him on to continue. Soon after, I can feel his miraculous hand between my legs again. His tongue is worshipping my clit while he slides two fingers inside of me.

  He starts finger fucking me and soon adds a third finger, spreading my insides without warning. I yelp in pain and surprise, trying to escape his grip, but he pins me down on the mattress with his free hand.

  I feel like I am about to explode when he starts sucking on my clit while still spreading me with three fingers. The sensation is too strong, too intense! It hurts, it drives me crazy. My body is alternating between trying to get away and leaning into his invasive touch.

  Again and again, little sparks of lust make their appearance, threatening for my orgasm to approach much sooner than I expected.

  And I am not allowed to come until he tells me to.

  I groan and squirm desperately, fighting the urge to come while still taking in as much as possible of what he is doing to me.

  He straightens up and I let out a moan of frustration as his tongue leaves my center.

  "You are going to come for me now," he announces.

  I am about to protest, but quickly get silenced by his skillful hands. He bends his fingers inside me again, pushing against the sweet spot behind my mound. The sensation causes stars to appear in front of my eyes.

  And just when I think that the feeling could not possibly get any more intense, he places his other hand on my mound and gently applies pressure on it while massaging my clit with his thumb.

  My eyes widen in shock as a giant stream of unleashed tension explodes across my insides, starting from my throbbing center. I am paralyzed by the feeling, trying to grasp what is happening to me when I hear him say the word that sends me over the edge.

  "Come!"

  I cry out as my orgasm takes over, robbing me of any control I might have had moments before, blinding my sight, deafening my ears. There is nothing but sheer pleasure spreading across my entire body while he keeps his hands exactly in place and continues his erotic massage.

  "It doesn't... stop!" I pant helplessly, unsure whether there is a second orgasm taking a hold of me or if Evan just made the miracle of multiple orgasms happen for me.

  I'm pretty sure, it's the latter.

  CHAPTER XIV

  Nicky

  The tips of his fingers are gently stroking along the side of my belly, tickling just enough for me to flinch and release exhausted giggles. My reactions are the only sound that fills the room. The evening is still young. The sun is far from setting and peeks through the closed curtains like a curious child.

  I am lying beside Evan completely naked, still recovering from the insane row of orgasms that did not stop and felt close to torture in between. My body is sore and tired – but my mind is screaming for more.

  I want to return to that surreal bliss, the insanity of pleasure he put me through. But right now, I cannot even look at him because of the overwhelming sea of sensations I am still trying to grasp – and because I feel ashamed.

  I didn't want to be here. Where is all that rational caution, the sassy wall of defense that would usually keep me safe from falling too much too fast? Especially with him. I swore to be careful, to keep my distance.

  And I certainly did not plan to end up naked in his arms, lazily staring at the ceiling above as I relax in my post-orgasm high.

  It feels as if I am on drugs, and for a moment I even find myself questioning whether he might have put something in my drink. He didn’t, of course, he just treated me to the first experience of multiple orgasms of my life.

  Nothing to lose your mind over, right?

  I can feel his eyes on me. He has been watching me the entire time, but neither of us has said a word. All one can hear is my breathing and the exhausted sighs and giggles I let out every time his hand touches an especially sensitive spot on my body.

  He is still fully dressed, except for his shoes. I can feel the soft fabric of his pullover on my skin. I wish I could steal it from him so that I could wear it myself and be wrapped in his scent whenever I want.

  Blood rushes to my cheeks as my mental image transitions into love-drunk-girl-mode. I try to shake it off by finally turning around to look at him.

  A loving smile fleets across his face when our eyes meet. His hair is still slicked into place, just as it was at the beginning of our date. He still looks impeccable while I have turned into a hot mess under his touch.

  "This is not fair," I sigh, dreamily staring at him.

  He raises his eyebrows. "Not fair?"

  "What did you do to me?" I ask.

  "I told you," he replies. "I know what I want – and I know how to make you give it to me."

  I have no words to reply to that.

  "Seeing you like this only adds to my pleasure," he continues. "Seeing a girl break under your touch is the most beautiful thing you can imagine."

  "You want to break me?" I ask.

  He smirks and leans over to plant a little kiss on my cheek.

  "A little, yes," he murmurs softly. "But don't worry, you'll want it, too."

  I swallow and try to fathom his words. The drug-like fog that has dampened my conscious is beginning to clear and I am beginning to feel in control again. It is as if a part of me – the sane and rational part – has temporarily escaped my body and is now returning, accompanied by red flags.