Chapter 19: Lydia

I expected opulence and it's exactly what I get. Every detail of the room screams money. The artwork alone is breathtaking. Damian walks over to me carrying a yellow folder, two wine glasses, and a bottle... Borgogno. I know it's expensive; why would I expect anything less?
I keep my mouth closed like a good little sub, giving him no reason to discipline me again. For one night, I can play his game. He will never know I crave so much more.
His eyebrow arches. Apparently, he's expecting a comment. I look down at my interlocked fingers resting in my lap. He wanted it. He got it.
He tilts my chin up with one finger and our eyes meet.
"If you keep a civil tongue, you may speak. Your insolent mouth will only get you punished, so be careful." He releases me and pours two glasses of wine.
I look at the glass he holds out. "You know it's not a good idea to drink in this situation and I'd rather keep my wits about me."
"You need to relax. One glass of wine will help with that. We're going through your soft and hard limits and then you're signing the agreement."
"The deal was carte blanche. Why do you care what my limits are?" I seriously can't help my Domme voice when I say it.
He lets my snippy tone go without reprimand. "Good question, but I'm not a complete sadist and I'd like you to get something out of this evening. This is not up for discussion-the wine or the contract. If you come away with bruises, I don't want the cops at my door."
Embarrassingly enough, my hand shakes when I take the glass from his hand. Damian's eyes miss nothing but he doesn't comment. He opens the folder and takes out the contract. It's the same one used in the club. Heat rushes into my face, which causes Damian's dimples to show, damn him.
"Do you wish to go through this one by one or would you rather just tell me what I need to know?" He rests the contract in front of me. "You need to understand that I will counter your demands with some of my own and we'll compromise on a few items. Both our needs are being met tonight."
I want to scream at the ridiculousness of what's about to go down. Instead, I give my first hard limit. "Anal sex is off the table."
He doesn't blink. "Okay. I can work with that, but I will use anal toys."
"It's the same thing." Yes, my whiny voice betrays me.
He shakes his head. "No, it isn't. My cock up your ass is anal sex. The toys are anal play. There's a huge difference." Huge as in the size of his cock, but he doesn't say it. He checks the box for anal sex as a hard limit. "Next item."
I swallow the rest of my wine in one unladylike gulp. I hope it costs thousands of dollars.
Damian bites his lip, fighting his goddamn smile. This night is never going to end.
We go through it all-no animals, no wet play, no fire play. He gets hot wax. Ouch. He promises no blisters if he uses wax. It takes almost an hour. By the end of our discussion, I know I'm in deep trouble.
"I'll show you to the bathroom. I want you showered, your hair washed, body shaved, and ready in twenty minutes. Everything you need is on the counter in the bathroom. There's a robe on the back of the door and you will come out with the robe untied. Don't comb your hair, only wrap it in a towel. When you approach me, you will kneel at my feet facing me in the proper position. Is there anything you're unclear about?"
"No," I grumble.
His lips press firmly together and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to I know I crossed a line. "No, Sir," I amend.
He stands and leads me through his bedroom to the bathroom. It's magnificent-gray marble with black accents. He leaves the door open a crack and walks away. I look at the door and think about closing it. Hell. It's not worth the fight.
I pee first and even his damn toilet paper is luxurious. The oversized shower has two showerheads, water jets above and to the sides, and bench seats on both sides. I could truly live in here for a full week. I unplait my braid and lather my hair quickly, remembering his time limit. My cunt, legs, and arms are silky smooth when I finish shaving. I can't help myself and run my fingers through my hair to get out a few of the tangles.
My time is up and there's no sense postponing the inevitable.
Damian is standing by the bed when I come out. He's changed into a pair of black cotton pants and his delectable chest remains bare along with his feet. I go to my knees while trying to control my breathing.
"Spread your knees farther," he barks.
I obey.
Damian gently unwraps the towel from my hair and tosses it on the floor beside me. The wet strands cascade in front of my eyes, obscuring my face. His body folds in front of me and I can see his smooth chest through the strands. He begins running a comb through the tangles. No tugging or pulling. He meticulously takes his time.
My pussy grows damp.
It's too much.
I realize what this night will mean. Tears well in my eyes. Damian tilts my chin up. I keep my eyes down and don't meet his. His warm breath hits my cheek a second before his tongue flicks out and collects the tears.
"None of that," he whispers. "Tonight is about pleasure. Forget our lives, the club, and if you can, your objections. I won't take more than you give."
"Bu..."
His finger covers my lips. "You no longer have permission to speak." The words are breathy soft in my ear. He places soft kisses on my hairline, the corner of my eye, and then moves to my lips. The kiss is sensual and loving. This is not what I expected from Damian. I unclench my fingers and move them to my thighs digging my fingers into my skin. It takes everything I have to resist running my fingers through his hair. He smells so damn good.
He pulls away. "Tell me something about yourself that my investigators couldn't uncover. Something private," he whispers.
I don't hesitate. "No."
He pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. "That's your favorite word. You don't play the submissive very well." There's a light tone in his voice like he's teasing me.
"I'm not a sub," I answer in my defense. Oh, but I am in the bedroom and he thankfully doesn't know that.
"Tonight you are," he says in his dominant voice that leaves no room for argument.
I remain silent while staring into his eyes. Does he read me this easily? I do everything I can to keep my expression blank.
He grins and his face goes from handsome to breathtaking. "Another wager?" he asks.
His beautiful smile throws me and I stumble over my words. "Not a, ah, good idea." I add an eye roll so he doesn't catch on that I'm in lust with him and his stunning dimples.
His, "Tsk, tsk," almost makes me smile.
Even knowing wagers have caused all my current problems I can't help myself. "Five orgasms?"
No hesitation whatsoever. "Yours or mine?" he asks.
I finally smile. "Mine."
"And your forfeit when you lose?"
I don't miss the cockiness of his question. "I won't lose. A week of submission."
"Then we've reached a deal."
I expect him to shake my hand but instead his fingers brush aside the bathrobe and he covers my breasts with his palms. "I knew these were soft, but they're actually pure silk. They fit my hands so perfectly." His thumbs and forefingers not so gently pinch my nipples, sending a jolt straight to my pussy. "These first." He pinches my nipples again. "It's time we get started. Eyes down."
He stands and walks away. My eyes are down but I can see him as he strolls around. God, even his bare feet turn me on. He returns and kneels in front of me again. His hand opens and nipple clamps rest on his palm. These are pinch-y but don't have teeth. I would have used the more painful ones on him because I'm mean that way. He leans forward and takes one aching nipple into his warm mouth. My toes curl. He sucks and flicks the delicate flesh. It's impossibly hard not to moan. Giving him that advantage this early is not in my plans. He pulls away slowly, his eyes glued to my wet nipple. He attaches the first clamp. I inhale sharply. There may be no teeth but he slides the pressure flange high up the clamp to make sure I feel it.
"You have a safe word. I expect you to know your limits while teaching me what your body needs."
He doesn't wait for my reply, just begins working on the other nipple. When he's finished, a small chain runs between my breasts. It has very small bells that jingle slightly when he plumps my breasts. I know he's smiling but I don't look up. With the clamps on my nipples and his dimples showing, I might orgasm on the spot. Bad sub, I silently admonish myself.
Damian stands and moves behind me. His fingers run through my hair and then he divides it into three sections and deftly braids it down the back. After securing it with an unseen hair tie, he places his hands on my shoulders.
"Come," he whispers in my ear sending shivers down my spine. He releases me and walks from the room. He has no idea that I almost had my first orgasm because of his words alone. I'll come all right but I can guaran-damn-tee it won't be five times.