6. Lemon #2
“And you’re my princess. The only princess.”
“Do you have a red room of pain?” I blurt.
“No.” He chuckles. “I don’t need a separate room to fuck you in. I have everything I need right here.”
“So this is a cream room of pain?” I ask, glancing at the warm neutral paint on the walls.
“I’m not interested in hurting you, Princess. I’ll only enjoy hearing you scream if it’s while you’re coming on my fingers, tongue, or cock.”
My entire body tightens at his words. I already came more times today than I’ve managed to make myself come in the last month. Do I really want more?
“Stand up,” he orders, offering me his hands and helping me to my feet.
Once I’m standing, he keeps hold of my hands, walking backward while he leads me out of the bedroom and into the most amazing closet I’ve ever seen in my life.
My jaw drops open as I take in the wall full of railed cabinets with glass doors and the units in the middle of the room topped with glass cases full of belts, watches, and jewelry.
Instead of letting me see, he leads me over to a floor-to-ceiling mirror and then steps behind me, pulling my hair back over my shoulders so I can see my throat and the stunningly beautiful necklace that’s now hanging around it.
“It’s beautiful,” I gasp, taking a step closer to the mirror so I can get a better look.
The necklace is a delicate solid circle of pink-colored gold with a bow-shaped pendant hanging from it. It’s the perfect size to sit at the base of my throat, like it was made for me, not something he already had.
“What metal is this? I’ve never seen it before.”
“It’s rose gold,” he says, curling an arm around me and pulling me back into his chest, his hand reaching between my bare breasts to run a careful finger over the band at my throat.
“Why do you have it?”
“I bought it for you.”
Smiling, I shake my head. “You didn’t know I existed before this morning.”
“I knew you existed. I just didn’t know who you were,” he says cryptically.
“That’s crazy,” I say again, tilting my head to the side and lifting my hand to touch the necklace.
The gold is warm and smooth beneath my finger, and without thinking about it, I tap the golden bow that is nestled at the hollow of my throat.
“It is beautiful though,” I say, reaching behind my neck to unclasp it.
“What are you doing?” Atticus asks sharply.
“Taking it off.”
“It doesn’t come off. It’s yours, forever,” he growls.
“I can’t accept this. It’s gold, it must have been expensive, and we just met.”
Covering my hands with his, he drags them away from the necklace, capturing my gaze in the mirror and stilling me. “It’s yours, Lemon.”
“I—” I attempt to speak, but he talks over me.
“It’s yours, Lemon. It doesn’t come off,” he insists, a hint of anger lacing his words.
“I—”
“Say thank you, Sir, and don’t mention taking it off again,” he growls.
“Thank you…Sir,” I whisper, feeling a hint of discomfort for the first time since we met.
“Come on, Princess. Let’s go and get a drink,” he says, letting go of one of my hands and using his hold on the other to tow me out of the closet and toward the door into the rest of the apartment.
“Atticus, we’re naked,” I hiss, planting my feet.
“So.”
“What about your brother?”
“He’s working.”
“Atticus.”
“Settle, Princess. It’s fine,” he says, tugging me a little more forcefully until I’m trailing behind him.
My heart beats wildly in my chest as he tows me out of the bedroom and into the open-plan living space.
Thankfully, it’s quiet and empty as he leads me to the refrigerator and opens it.
Pulling out two bottles of orange juice, he grabs a bunch of grapes, some pre-cut cubes of cheese, and finally a box of crackers from the cabinet.
Then he leads me back to the amazing couch, stopping beside it.
“I’d like you to kneel for me, Princess. The rug is thick, so it shouldn’t hurt your knees, but if it starts to, then tell me.”
“You want me to kneel on the floor…in here?” I question slowly.
“I know this is all new to you, but I’d like you to try,” he says, his tone soft and calm, like he’s asking me to let him pick what TV show we watch, not kneel naked at his feet.
“I…”
Instead of letting me speak, he leans down and kisses me. Pushing his tongue into my mouth, he silences me, tugging my bottom lip between his teeth before he eventually pulls away, leaving me breathless and turned on.
His hooded gaze is pure seduction as he dips his eyes to his rock-hard, weeping cock and then to the floor beneath us. “Will you kneel for me, Princess?” he asks, his voice smooth whiskey.
The words are out before I have time to consider them. “Yes, Sir.”
Holding my hands, he helps me sink to my knees, then takes a seat on the couch in front of me. I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but it’s not for him to pluck a grape from the bunch and hold it at my lips.
Parting my lips, I bite the grape in two, letting the cool juice coat my tongue.
Waiting for me to chew and swallow, he feeds me the other half of the grape, then a cube of cheese, then a cracker.
Once I’ve finished, he holds the bottle of juice carefully to my lips before he plucks another grape and feeds me, starting the cycle again.
“Thank you, Princess,” he says softly when I shake my head, unable to eat any more.
“You’re welcome, Sir,” I easily respond, resting my cheek on his thigh when his fingers start to run through my hair.
I’m half asleep when the apartment door opens, and Felix strides in.
Panic has me straightening, then freezing as I take in both mine and Atticus’s nakedness and how I must look kneeling on the floor at his brother’s feet like a slave in a romantasy novel.
“Hey, Att. Hey, Lemon,” Felix says, not looking remotely surprised to see his twin brother unclothed and hard with a naked woman at his feet.
“Hey, bro,” Atticus greets calmly, his posture relaxed and unperturbed.
“Atticus,” I whisper-yell, my eyes so wide they start to hurt.
“You’re okay, Princess. My brother doesn’t care.”
“I care,” I hiss.
“Why?”
“Because I’m naked.”
“He isn’t looking,” Atticus says airily.
“I’m naked,” I hiss again, pushing to my feet and dashing toward Atticus’s room.
“Felix,” Atticus calls. “Look at Lemon,” he orders. “Princess, stand still.”
“Atticus,” I say, feeling hot, humiliated tears pooling in my eyes.
“That collar looks perfect on her,” Felix says, smiling at me before he strides into his bedroom and comes out a few minutes later with a small notebook gripped in his hand.
Without another word or even glancing in my direction, Felix leaves, and I feel the first tear slip from my eye and roll down my cheek.
I don’t know if I’m crying from embarrassment, humiliation, or hurt that this was all some kind of game that Atticus and his brother have clearly played before. But more tears follow the first as I turn and walk into Atticus’s bedroom, looking for my dress or anything to cover me.
Lazily following me, Atticus’s expression is calm as he saunters into his bedroom with his hard dick swinging from side to side. “Why are you upset, Princess?” he asks.
“I don’t like being treated like a toy. I’m not part of this game,” I hiss, rushing from one side of the bed to the other, looking for my underwear, clothes, and shoes.
“You’re not a toy, and nothing about this is a game.”
“Are you seriously telling me that you didn’t plan that?
That your brother just happened to come upstairs while I was sitting at your feet like a slave.
He didn’t even blink, Atticus. If this wasn’t a setup, he would have been surprised at seeing me.
Unless this is what you do? Do you regularly have naked women in your living room? ”
“I don’t ever bring women home. My brother has never met anyone I’ve been involved with,” Atticus says.
“Bullshit,” I snap, spinning to face him. “Where are my clothes?”
“I hung your dress in the closet. Your bra is in the laundry hamper, and I’m not a fan of panties, so you won’t be needing them back,” he replies so easily you’d think I asked him if he preferred still or sparkling water, not angrily demanded to know where my clothes are.
Marching into the closet, I eventually find my dress and pull it from the hanger, sliding it over my head and almost zipping my skin into it in my haste to fasten it. “I’m leaving,” I say, finding my shoes sitting beside his on a shelf and forcing my feet into them.
“Why?” he questions.
“Why?” I ask incredulously.
“Yes, Princess. Why do you think you’re leaving?”
“Because this is mortifying. It’s cruel to play with people, Atticus.”
“I’m not playing at anything, Lemon. My brother didn’t react to you being at my feet or the fact that we were both naked first, because he doesn’t care, and second, because he understands my preferences, and he saw and recognized the gold around your throat the moment he stepped through the door.”
“He called it a collar,” I say slowly, remembering his words.
“It is a collar. I’m a Dom, Princess. That necklace shows that you are mine, and that I’m yours.”
“We just met,” I say, scoffing at how ridiculous this all is.
“I asked you who I was, and you said I was your Sir. You’ve claimed me every bit as much as I’ve claimed you.”
Blinking, I stare up at him like he just spoke a foreign language, because honestly, he might as well have. “I need to leave.”
“Why?” he asks again.
“Because this isn’t an erotic novel,” I yell.
“No, it’s not. If this were a book, I’d be fucking you right about now. I’m more than happy to do that if it’s what you need, but I’d rather us get back to chilling out before dinner,” he says so reasonably, I don’t even know how to respond.
“Can you put some clothes on?” I hiss, my eyes refusing to ignore his hard dick that isn’t softening despite the argument we’re having.
“Does nakedness bother you? You seem hung up over us not wearing clothes. That dress is really pretty, but I doubt there’s anything sexier than you in nothing but gold,” he says softly…honestly.