Bought (14 page)

Finally, he reached for a condom, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yes,” I begged him. I didn’t hide my need. Desire had replaced any fear.

He sheathed himself, then took his cock in his right hand, aiming it at my pussy. I obligingly parted my legs wider. I was ready.

“Not nervous?” He looked amused but there was heat in his eyes.

I shook my head silently. I couldn’t form words. If I could, all I would say was
please don’t make me wait anymore, please, please just fuck me.

He bent towards me and kissed me. “Good,” he said. Then he thrust into me. One hard, painful, pleasurable thrust, filling me like I hadn’t been filled for two years.

No teasing. Not now. Now, we both wanted the same thing. Fast, furious, animalistic. This was primal. This was reliving the memory of two years ago, but it was better. Because he was here, now. His body over mine. His weight on me. His cock pounding me, pleasuring me.

I felt the waves of impending release start to form. His eyes met mine. “No.” There was not a single doubt in my mind that this was an order. “You won’t come until I give you permission.”

I couldn’t form thought enough to protest. I nodded, my teeth clenched. I had to. I felt a need to obey him in this moment.

But obedience was brutally hard, because my body fit in his. Two years ago, sleeping with him had felt like coming home. Two years later, that feeling hadn’t been a lie. Though I should have been revolted at who he was, I wasn’t. My body needed him. My soul found completion in his arms.

“Please…” I begged as his cock raked every inch of my passage, setting every nerve ending afire. “Please, Sir… I need to come.”

His lips ground down on mine. “No,” he growled into my mouth. “Wait.”

I waited. Each wave of pleasure took me higher, higher. I was afraid I’d fall and shatter. I wanted to jump off into release, with or without permission. But I obeyed.

His eyes clenched shut. His cock hammered harder. He was inches from his own release and I tightened my muscles around his shaft, luxuriating in his groan as he felt me. “
Cherie
,” he muttered. “You will be the death of me.” He opened his brilliant blue eyes and looked into mine. “Come for me, Jenny.”

It didn’t take much more than that. I was ready. All I needed was permission. And when he asked, I climaxed for him, feeling his release at the same time.

As I clutched at him and awareness slowly returned, I realized that this was going to be the most challenging three months of my life. I couldn’t stay rational around Alexander. My body craved his too much, and I was unequipped to handle my own sexual desire.

Ellie / Jenny:

It had been two years since I was last in Paris. I hadn’t returned since the day we’d fled for Tangier. I’d wanted to keep the memory of the night I spent with Marc perfect and untouched.

But Alexander was Marc and on the plane, I’d added a new memory to my recollections.

We didn’t go back to that small house that I remembered so fondly. The townhouse he took me to was in the centre of the city. Large, spacious and airy, with priceless works of art decorating the walls and glistening chandeliers hanging from the ceilings; this was the home of a rich and powerful man.

He looked at my face. I was struggling to stay awake. It always took me a day or two to adjust to each new time zone. It used to cause Lucien no end of aggravation. “You look like you are about to pass out Jenny,” he said to me.

“Jet lag,” I replied. “It always kills me.”

His eyes narrowed and too late, I realized that my trip to Bangkok was supposedly the first time Jenny Fullerton had left the United States. “At least, I’m assuming that jet lag’s the reason I was out of sorts for two whole days when I got to Bangkok.” I wondered whether my clarification was helping or hurting my cause.

“Why don’t I give you the full tour after you’ve got some rest then?” he said. “Come, let me show you to your bedroom.”

My heart stabbed with sudden pain. He didn’t want me to share his bed? “I thought I’d be sleeping with you,” I asked hesitantly. Raging insecurity swept over me and I didn’t like it. Had I not been good enough in bed for him?

His eyes softened. “You are always welcome to join me,” he clarified. “But we should set up the terms of our agreement in the morning.”

Bile filled my mouth. For a few hours, I’d been pretending that Alexander was my boyfriend. He’d been attentive, warm and caring, and I’d embraced the fantasy. But now that we were in Paris, the arrangement surfaced. I had been paid a million dollars minus Madame Lorraine’s commission to be this man’s submissive for three months. Tomorrow, he would tell me the duties expected of me in exchange.

I should have known better than to need and want Alexander. But it had happened anyway. One night in Paris two years ago and a couple of evenings of kindness. Starved of affection my whole life, that was all it took for me to lower my shields.

“That sounds good,” I responded tonelessly. “Thank you, Alexander.”

For a moment, he looked almost regretful. Then his expression closed and he nodded. “Follow me.”

The bedroom he showed me to, was a far cry from my cell in Abeokuta. Floor to ceiling windows with a view of the Eiffel Tower. The bed was large and comfortable looking. Pillows were piled high and the bedspread was grey silk. There was a small seating area to one side, where a loveseat covered with the same grey silk was flanked by two spindly looking chairs. A large TV hung from the wall. Doors led to an en-suite bathroom, a walk-in closet and to a small balcony that overlooked the street below. It was a lovely room and I didn’t care; all I wanted to do was to curl up next to him.  

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he replied. “Get some rest.”

“Thank you.”

Though my body screamed out for a sound night’s sleep, I was too wound up. My mind churned as a thousand swirling thoughts competed with each other.

He’d been warm and kind and funny. But it seemed that new rules would go into effect tomorrow. I was fighting not to panic again. This house was bound to have a dungeon in it. Alexander was my dominant. Tomorrow, I would be expected to obey his wishes.

And Sylvia. I wished I could forget about Sylvia. There were many memories I would have preferred to fade, but foremost among them was the night Dylan had caned me and left bloody marks while Sylvia had watched, her nostrils flared with lust. Blood aroused her. I shuddered to think about what was going to happen when she got to Paris.

I wasn’t sure if Alexander would hurt me. But I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Sylvia would. She was like a cat toying with a mouse.

This mouse is a killer,
I reminded myself.
I killed Gregor Petrovich in Kiev. I killed Ivan Klimov in Paris. Pieter died in Berlin. Sam Green in Cairo.
Only Daniel Schneider remained and he was still working for Dylan in Hanoi. Each time, after each mission was successfully concluded, I’d fixed an image of their bodies in my head. This was my counterpoint to the rape and the torture. Now, I reminded myself that I wasn’t that weak, afraid girl that Dylan had kidnapped. I was strong. I was on the road to being avenged. Whatever I needed to endure, it would only be for three months.

I didn’t allow myself to dwell on the fact that I had feelings, mixed-up and fucked-up as they were, towards Alexander. It didn’t matter. Tomorrow, the true colours of the man who bid on submissives in an auction in Bangkok would be revealed. I’d fallen under his spell easily. I told myself that it would be just as easy to free myself when his true personality was exposed to me.

***

I showered in the adjacent bathroom and dressed in a pale grey silk dress the next morning, grinning as I realized I matched the furniture in my room. Once I’d delayed as long as I could, brushing my hair a hundred times to try and calm my nerves, I emerged out of my room and went to the kitchen. There was a woman there, busy cooking something on the gas burners. “
Bonjour, mademoiselle
,” she smiled at me. “
Voudrez-vous le petit dejeuner?
” I assumed she was the housekeeper.

“Elle ne parle pas Francais, Elodie,”
Alexander interjected, coming into the room. “Jenny, would you like some breakfast?”

I reminded myself that Jenny didn’t speak French. It would be difficult to pretend that I didn’t understand the language, but I would have to look convincingly uncomprehending when they talked among themselves. I sighed inwardly. I’d never had to maintain a cover story for an extended period. When we’d come up with the plan, I had assumed that my time with Alexander would be similar to my time with Dylan. I didn’t think that Dylan had ever asked me a question or was at all curious about my wants and needs. When I wasn’t serving him sexually, I’d been imprisoned in a cage or a cell.

“I’d love some breakfast,” I replied.   

Elodie smiled at me warmly. “Eggs, toast and fruit, Mademoiselle? Or something else? Perhaps some croissants or pain au chocolat?”

I willed back the memories that rose to the fore. “Eggs and toast would be perfect.” I raised an eyebrow as Alexander handed me a cup of coffee.

He grinned. “You had three cups yesterday morning in Bangkok,” he replied to my unasked question. “A splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar.”

“Impressive,” I replied. I ate my breakfast in silence at the kitchen island while Alexander sat next to me and read the newspaper. Elodie was chopping some vegetables for lunch by the stove. It was tempting to ask Alexander about the contract and our arrangement, but mindful of the fact that Elodie spoke English, I kept silent.

When I was done eating, he looked at me. “Shall we go into my study?” he asked. “Let’s get the formalities out of the way?”

My heart thudded in my chest. “Yes, Alexander,” I replied dutifully, getting up to follow him.

Alexander:

I hadn’t bothered with a contract with either of the submissives I’d found at Lori’s auction before. Both Emma and Whitney had been well-versed in the lifestyle. We’d had safety discussions, of course, but both women were perfectly capable of expressing their desires.

Jenny was different. She seemed unable to tell me what she wanted. My hunch was that it was tied up with the real reason she’d been in Bangkok at Lori’s auction. Whatever her true purpose was, it kept her from being honest with me about her desires.

The fear flickered on and off. The panic wasn’t gone entirely, and I berated myself for taking her on the plane.

She seemed surprised every single time I treated her like a person. And the question she’d asked on the plane? Of course Anne-Marie would come running if she’d heard Jenny scream. Did Jenny really think money would buy their silence?

But I knew more than one billionaire who used money to buy them out of trouble. Sylvia. Dylan. Her fear wasn’t entirely unfounded.

A contract might help, I reasoned. A clear definition of what I wanted from her would perhaps serve to reassure her.

I took a deep breath. At this point, it could hardly make things worse.

***

Ellie / Jenny:

I took a seat across from him in his spotlessly clean study. His desk didn’t have a single thing on it. Everything was tucked away out of sight.

Alexander was different this morning. Or was it just my nerves? The guy who’d fingered me to two bone-shattering orgasms before taking me with raw power was missing. Today he was acting like a cold stranger. I didn’t know if I’d done something wrong but I felt too uncertain around him to ask.

He handed me three sheets of paper. “It’s the basic contract,” he said. “I’ve used this before with my previous submissives. Things are negotiable, of course, but this should give you an idea of what I’m looking for.”

He’d already paid a million dollars for me. I didn’t think there would be a further contract. “What are you like with your submissives?” I asked him. “You were the topic of some gossip at the auction.”

He blushed a little. “Was I?” He shook his head. “Awkward.”

I grinned at his discomfiture before bending my head to pour over the pages. They were surprisingly free of legalese and resembled an employment contract more than anything else.

I read that I was supposed to keep the arrangement between us confidential. I’d have four sessions a week in Alexander’s playroom. If I consented, I could be shared by him with other men and women.  My safe words would always be respected in a session. If I was interested in trying a particular activity, I was to inform my Dominant. If I wasn’t interested, same thing.

I tried not to think about Sylvia. I kept reading.

I’d be asked to accompany him from time to time to social events, where I would be introduced as his friend. I would not be expected to sleep in the same bed as Alexander, but it wasn’t forbidden either. Beyond that, I was free to explore Paris and a car would be placed at my disposal.

Once I was done reading, I looked up at him. “I thought this would be different,” I said honestly.

“In what way?”

“I thought it would be more prescriptive,” I replied. “I thought I’d have more rules.”

He shrugged. “I’m a very busy man, Jenny. I don’t have the time or the inclination to do anything resembling twenty-four seven.”

“What’s your style?” I asked him. From everything I’d seen and heard, Alexander appreciated an open discussion about my fears. “Do you get angry if I don’t obey you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “In the playroom?” he asked. I nodded, and he looked puzzled. “You’ll get punished,” he replied. “But you have safe words. You have all the control; you decide how intense the play should be. My goal will be to discover your limits. Take you to the edge, if you’d like. Beyond, if you are interested. But you’ll always have the power to stop the play, if you aren’t enjoying it.” His eyes softened. “I’m not that formal,” he added. “No high protocol or anything. The only thing I insist on is communication.”  

“How should I act around Elodie?” I asked him.

He frowned. “I restrict the games to the playroom, Jenny,” he said. “I don’t parade my submissives around on a leash in front of Elodie, if that’s what you are wondering. She’s not a child, but I do like keeping my sex life private.”

“Why go to the auction? Your requirements aren’t onerous. There’s got to be many women that will be willing to meet them.”

He nodded. “No doubt. But I’m wealthy and I’m not looking for entanglement. I like the simplicity of Lori’s arrangement. Three months is about all the commitment I want. Now, with the contract, is there anything you’d like to change up?”

I ignored the stab of pain I felt and focused on Dylan. This was my chance to set the seeds for Hanoi. “I’d like to explore France,” I said, striving for the perfect tone of tentative need. “I’ve never got a chance to travel much, but I’ve always wanted to. All the money you paid will go towards Alicia’s illness. I’d like to see as much of the world as I can in these three months. Would that be possible while I’m in Paris?”

He grinned. “Of course,
cherie,”
he replied. Those dimples danced in his cheeks. “I travel for work all the time. You are welcome to accompany me if you’d like. Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

Hanoi. But that would have been too obvious. “I haven’t seen anything,” I replied. “So I place myself in your hands.”

Heat filled his gaze. “Do you? That remains to be seen.” He patted the desk. “Hop on.”

I obeyed, arousal seeping from every inch of my body. He positioned me at the end of the desk, facing him. My panties were swiftly removed and tossed to a corner of the room. “Lie back, Jenny,” he instructed. “Spread your legs for me.”

I did as he asked. My mind flashed back to the last time he’d done this. Two years ago, we’d been in his backyard in a small house in the Parisian suburbs. He’d spread me on the glass-topped table in his backyard and instructed me to keep my voice down before going down on me. It had been my first time.

He’d gone down on me once more that night. But there had been no one in the intervening two years. No one to hold my legs open with their strong grip. No one to bend their head and lick my pussy. No one to play my body like an expertly tuned instrument.

There had never been anyone except Alexander.

Lust filled my body with impossible haste. “Please,” I moaned as I lay spread out on his desk. “Please.”

He raised his head to look at me. “A very tasty treat,” he muttered. His chin was wet with my juices and it didn’t seem to bother him at all. “Make all the noise you want, Jenny. When the door is closed, no one can hear you plead. But remember,” his piercing blue eyes fixed me with their gaze, “you must ask for permission to come.”

“Yes Sir,” I breathed. “Please may I come?”

He chuckled. “Already? Oh no, Jenny. You ate breakfast. It’s my turn to get my fill.”

He dived into me again.

Each stroke of his tongue sent pleasure spiralling through me. Each flick over my clitoris had me clutching at the desk, clawing desperately for some kind of hold so that I could obey his wishes and not fall into orgasm. Each rasp of his stubble against my tender folds had me groaning in uncontrolled desire.

“Alexander,” I begged. “Please.”

He spanked my thighs hard. “Sir in a session, Jenny,” he growled, his voice vibrating painfully close to my clitoris. “Alexander outside a session. This is a session, in case it wasn’t clear.”

“Yes Sir,” I exhaled. “Please may I come?”

“No. Hold on.”

It had been two years. I’d touched myself sometimes in that time. At the start, it had been difficult. Too much of my sexual desires had fled as a result of Dylan’s systematic cruelty. But after that night in Paris when I had found pleasure in Alexander’s love making, I’d started trying to get over my fear. I’d gone out one day when I found myself in Berlin and I’d bought a dildo at a sex store, even though entering those doors took real courage. I’d fantasized that Alexander was touching me as I’d stroked myself until I was soaked with my juices. Then, I’d slide in the dildo and push it in and out of my wet, needy pussy.

As I grew bolder, I’d even added lubricant and a butt plug into the mix. When my fingers had scooped the lube and had spread it around my tight hole, my body had tingled in response. When I slowly inserted a finger and wiggled it around, I’d moaned involuntarily. I’d imagined that Alexander was watching me. Telling me what to do. “Push in the plug,” he’d said in my fantasy. So I had slowly lowered myself down on it, and felt each and every inch of it in my rectal passage.

He always told me I pleased him in my fantasies. He was always warm. Firm but kind. In my dreams, I trusted him more than I trusted even myself. In my dreams, I could allow myself to fly, unafraid of falling. Because Alexander would catch me.

“Please Sir,” I begged again. I couldn’t hold it back. “I don’t want to disobey you.”

His tongue circled my clitoris. His strong hands moved with intent and two fingers pushed inside my dripping snatch.  My hips arched off the table, but his fingers didn’t break their grip. In and out, they squelched and each thrust made me plead a little more.

I was incoherent with need. My body was wracked with small tremors as I fought to hold off my climax. When he finally added a third finger and gave me permission to come, it was with a relieved shout that I surrendered to my release.

***

Once I could move again, I cocked my head at him. “If that’s one of your four designated sessions,” I said cheekily, “I should probably suck you off.”

He laughed aloud. “By mutual consent, we may elect to have more than four sessions a week,” he intoned in a dry imitation of a lawyer.

“I consent,” I said promptly. I was still lying on the table, still splayed open in front of him and I didn’t have a thought in my head about covering up.

“Good,” he said, drawing me up by my hands so I was seated on the edge of the table. “Three months,
cherie
. Let’s have fun, shall we? After all,” he smiled wickedly, “we still have your limits to figure out.”

It said something about how sated I was after my orgasm that I didn’t tense up at those words. Perhaps I was a fool, but I didn’t feel unsafe around Alexander. I even wanted to see the playroom.

If my heart was a little sad at how casual he was about our time-bound experiment, I was determined to ignore it. After all, the only reason I was with Alexander was that he was able to get me access to Dylan. That was all. The fact that Alexander was really Marc from two years ago? The fact that I was insanely attracted to him, that I had even thought the L-word? Those were distractions and I needed to remember that.

He gave me a tour. It turned out that his apartment wasn’t an apartment, per se, not by any conventional definition of the word. It encompassed all four floors of the square brick building. We started by taking an elevator to the roof, where there was a garden overflowing with flowers and small trees with actual oranges hanging off them. An ornamental fountain trickled water in the centre of a small clearing and there was seating around the edges. “It isn’t a proper garden, really,” he pointed out. “But I like to have a bit of green space. It helps me relax. There’s a large park not too far away, if you do want to go running or something.”

I looked up at him sharply at that, wondering if it was possible that he had recognized me. But his expression was friendly and interested.
No one could be that good of an actor,
I reassured myself. “That’d be nice,” I replied. “I’ll have to go shopping for a pair of running shoes though. I didn’t pack very well when I flew to Bangkok. I didn’t think I’d be running there.”

“I’ll have the driver take you to a store,” he promised.

We continued the tour. His bedroom took up most of the top floor and it was breathtaking. Floor to ceiling windows on three sides. Two doors were set into the fourth side. Sunlight streamed into the room and it was pleasantly toasty. In this room, there were comfortable couches, colourful rugs and a sense of warmth. “I love your room,” I marvelled. This space was similar in feel to his house in the suburbs.

I felt at home in his bedroom. That was not good.

He smiled at me. “I drove the decorator crazy,” he offered. “I asked for worn leather couches that I could flop down in.” He looked at me intently. “And a bed with headboards and footboards for obvious reasons.”

I gulped. I could picture myself tied to his bed, spread-eagled on it. He would tease me endlessly and I would plead and beg for my orgasm. I would be entirely at his mercy and my body clenched in arousal at that thought.

One level down were the other bedrooms, including the one I was sleeping in. “Elodie’s quarters are also on this floor,” he said.

Down from that was a floor that contained a gym, a massive library that I immediately resolved to spend all day in, and an actual movie theatre. I wanted to linger in the library. My eyes kept getting drawn to the door. “This is insane,” I said.  

He laughed. “I completely agree. I bought this from a Count with opulent tastes and strained finances. It’s utterly ridiculous. But the house is conveniently located.”