He didn’t lean in. He didn’t come closer and he didn’t touch me. He just watched me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all. “You look afraid,” he remarked after many moments of silence.
How could I respond to that? He was very good at picking up what I wished to keep concealed. I was a little afraid. Two years in Dylan’s possession had taught me to be terrified of uncontrolled desire. The one night I’d spent with Alexander two years ago in Paris had not been enough to eradicate all my fear.
“Tell me, Jenny,” he asked, “did you enjoy your time with your previous master?”
Ah, fuck. His question was direct and far too perceptive and I couldn’t lie. He would be able to tell. I tried for a half-truth. “Not always, Sir.”
“Why?”
There was panicked screaming in my mind. Everything balanced on my answer. Dylan. My revenge. The fact that Alexander would kill me if he knew who I was. I needed to navigate carefully through this inquisition so that my fear would be explained but my cover story would remain intact.
“My Master punished me harshly,” I whispered. “I’m afraid to do something to displease you.”
He looked unhappy. “You are my submissive, Jenny,” he said. He ran his fingers through his hair in a helpless gesture. “And I don’t think you have the slightest idea what that entails.” He fixed me with a piercing look. “Did you get evaluated by Lorraine’s resident Doms, or did you lie your way past that as well?”
I shivered. I had to act, and act well so that he wouldn’t be suspicious of everything I did. He had to trust me enough to take me to Hanoi. “They evaluated me,” I said tonelessly. My mind reeled. What should I do next? This wasn’t what I was expecting at all – Alexander’s focused attention on me.
“Did you enjoy that?” he probed.
“Yes Sir.” No lie there. I had been nervous about their examination, but they had brought me unexpected pleasure.
“Tell me why.”
“Umm…” I struggled with this. “I could trust them to stop, if I needed them to. I trusted them to respect my safe words.”
“And you couldn’t with your previous Master.” His words weren’t a question.
I shook my head. “Not always.” Never. Slaves didn’t have safe words.
He looked… troubled. “You are a frightened little mouse, Jenny, and I don’t get aroused by your terror.”
“I wasn’t terrified yesterday,” I retorted. “And I’m not terrified now.”
“Yet, if I unbuckle my belt,” he said, his hands at his waistband, “I dare say your eyes will be filled instantly with panic.”
Only from the remembered memory of what Dylan did to me. Only because I can’t forget.
I kept silent. I stayed on my knees on the carpet, my legs spread apart, the breeze kissing my folds. My hands locked behind my back.
“One million dollars,” he finally said flatly. “For your sister. Take the money and walk away.”
My eyes flew to his face, shocked. Again, my mind struggled to keep pace with what was going on and I fought to improvise. I couldn’t walk away. “Why?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“I don’t want anyone in my bed who doesn’t want to be there.” His words were a dismissal.
I laughed inwardly. If only he knew. Even now, when my plans lay in potential shambles, my body craved him. I unlocked my arms from behind my back, stung beyond belief at his assertion that I didn’t want him. My eyes stayed glued to his, even as my fingers dipped in and out of my *. I held my fingers out towards him. “I want to be here.” The evidence of my desire was extended towards him.
His eyes betrayed his lust. He took a step closer towards me. “If you stay,” he growled, “you will learn to follow my rules.”
“Yes Sir.”
“The first rule – you must be honest about your desires. Your wants and your needs. What arouses you and what causes you fear.”
“Yes Sir.” I gulped. Dylan hadn’t ever been interested in my desire, just my compliance. But Alexander wanted me naked and revealed to him and that terrified me. Already, I felt too much for him. The way he’d held me two years ago in Paris had etched itself into my memory. Last night’s camaraderie and kindness had reawakened every emotion I’d managed to suppress when I realized who he was.
But I had no ability to turn away from the path I was on. Dylan’s death depended on it, but I sensed that more than my revenge was at stake here. Something about this man filled every crevasse in my soul, and I couldn’t walk away.
“I’m going to punish you now.” His voice was very, very close to me. His hands took my outstretched fingers and brought them to his mouth, and his lips tasted the proof of my arousal. “But Jenny, you should know, your punishment will always fit your crime.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his face.
“Are you afraid?” he asked.
“A little.” My voice was soft.
“Honesty. Good. What are you being punished for?”
“Because I forgot and called you Sir outside of a scene,” I whispered.