Chapter 12
Amelia
After my initial humiliation, I decide that Eleanora might be the kindest woman on earth.
She’s gentle yet thorough as she assesses my figure, and after a lot of muttering under her breath, she whisks out of the room.
I can hear Crawford saying something to her in Italian, but I’ve no idea what it is.
A few minutes later, Eleanora is back, holding an armful of beautiful clothes. Over the next few minutes, her assistant hands her several more through the curtain as she drapes them over me, looking in the mirror for my approval every time.
I’ve never felt more spoiled.
Although I’m still irritated at Crawford’s presumption of bringing me here, I truly appreciate the exquisite fashion on display.
Eleanora presents me with dozens of different ensembles. It’s not just suits, but also blouses, skirts, and pants. She shows me how my skin and blonde hair encourage a ‘winter’ tone for my clothing and dismisses any colors outside that range.
Fuchsia, emeralds, and sapphires all complement my hair. I’ve never paid any attention to this type of thing before, and I’m amazed at how the wrong color washes me out completely.
I have eight different outfits hanging on the hook beside me, and as I get into them one by one, Eleanora pulls the curtain back so that Crawford can look at me.
I don’t think I’m hiding my irritation very well and attempt to school my features into a neutral expression, but it doesn’t quite work.
I don’t really look at him, and he says very little, but when I do eventually glance up at him, he’s put his phone away.
He has his foot up, his ankle resting on his knee, and a finger against his cheek.
He looks me up and down with a little smile on his face, and I frown at him, which only makes the smile grow wider.
Crawford says something else in Italian to Eleanora, and she nods enthusiastically before she pushes me back behind the curtain.
I wait, and then something is pushed through it that makes my whole body stiffen. It’s lingerie. Beautiful, lacy, exquisite lingerie, but if Crawford thinks I’m displaying myself in front of this lovely elderly woman and her assistant like this, he has another thing coming.
There is more murmuring behind the curtain, and I take the underwear like it’s a bomb, holding it with the tips of my fingers and hanging it hastily on a hook.
I will not walk out into that room in nothing but a corset and see-through panties to be examined like a piece of meat. I stand there, paralyzed for what feels like forever, until I hear a soft footfall outside the curtain.
“Is everything alright?”
Christ, that deep voice. My whole body starts to tremble. Whether from desire or rage, it’s unclear.
“I’m not putting these on,” I snap, and then recoil, horrified by my tone. I sound like a toddler.
To my surprise, Crawford chuckles and pulls the curtain back, leaning against the frame of the fitting room and raising an eyebrow. I look behind him, but there’s no sign of Eleanora or the other man.
“Is that right?” he says, sounding amused.
I chew my lip, attempting to get my temper under control. I should be grateful. This must be costing him thousands of dollars, but I won’t be displayed like some trophy—no matter what my job is.
“I’m not… I don’t want to show them to anyone but you.”
I mean it as a boundary, as a way to stop myself from being put on display, but his eyes darken at my words, and I can tell he likes that idea.
“Hmm. You only want me to see you in them?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Yes.”
“Well, then, try them on. I need to see if they suit you.”
I scowl at him, and he laughs. “I didn’t realize you had a temper. I do enjoy roping your goat.”
“I do not have a temper,” I say, and that only makes him laugh again as he steps into the fitting room and pulls the curtain across.
“I think you do, Amelia, and I think you’re annoyed I brought you here without asking. I think you’ll be even more annoyed when I force you to leave that old suit behind,” he says, looking at the creased pile of tan fabric on the chair behind me with disgust.
“I can’t do that, it’s my mom’s,” I say without thinking and then glance up at him self-consciously.
Panic pulses through me, and I quickly change the subject, hoping to distract him from what I just said.
“Why are we here, anyway?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there are plenty of high-end places in New York we could have gone to, but instead we’re in a basement down murder alley.”
His lips twitch. “Eleanora’s the best, and it’s quiet here. I can’t bear department stores and pushy salespeople. Here, it’s individual and tailored to what I want. As all the best experiences are.”
He quirks his brow at me, and it shouldn’t be so hot. He’s effortlessly casual, hands in his pockets.
“Try them on.” He says, nodding to the lingerie. “Don’t worry, we’re alone. Try them on. Now.”
The authority in his voice sends a full-body shudder through me. I can feel heat between my legs, an ache throbbing there that is a new and unexpected feeling. One quick glance at his crotch confirms he’s just as turned on as I am.
I’m annoyed that I’m so eager to please him when he’s acting like such an asshole. All the same, I pull off the beautiful suit, hanging it back up carefully.
I look at the underwear Eleanora selected for me. There’s a garter belt and corset among them, covered in red roses against cream satin.
“Which one?” I ask. His eyes are fixed on my body now, running over it incessantly.
“The corset.”
I remove my own bra and panties, feeling hot under his heated gaze. The corset is laced at the back, and I loosen it, pulling it on so that I can tighten it myself. But I needn’t have worried, Crawford is behind me immediately.
He tugs at the laces, and I suck in a breath as it cinches my waist so tight I can barely breathe.
I love the sensation, reveling in it, though I have no idea why.
Crawford’s hands caress my waist, and I reach for the panties, but he grabs my wrist. His chest is pressed against my back, and the ache between my legs intensifies with each second that passes.
I had no idea I could get this turned on this fast.
“I think maybe we should leave those off for now. Judging by how wet you got for me this morning, I wouldn’t want to ruin them before I buy them.”
His hand smooths over the front of the corset, moving down toward my legs, and he doesn’t hesitate as he pushes his hand between them, sliding over my clit and flirting with the wet heat beyond.
My head falls back on his shoulder as he leans down, angling his body so he can push a finger into me. He kicks my legs wide apart, and I let out a little cry of pleasure. I love that feeling, that he’s in control of my body and I just have to stand and take it.
He kisses my neck as his index finger pushes inside me, circling and twisting as I gasp against him.
“You need to be silent, understood?” he asks even as he crooks a finger, making me jolt. “I have a long-standing relationship with Eleanora, and I don’t want her to know that I’m fucking you in this room. Is that clear?”
I close my eyes, nodding as he pulls his finger out and then replaces it with two. I open my mouth in a silent moan as he moves around to my front, lifting me effortlessly and pressing my back to the wall.
His fingers continue to thrust into me, hard and rough, as his other arm supports me. I’m writhing against him now, pushing down onto his fingers with every thrust.
It's exquisite. I want him to use his tongue again, but instead, after a few minutes, he pulls back.
“Undo my pants.”
I fumble with the buckle but manage to get it open without much fuss, watching his huge cock spring out. Is he going to ask me to suck it?
I’ve been watching endless videos about it and feel like I’m ready to try. But my nerves return as I imagine how inexperienced it might seem compared to other girls he’s had.
I wonder how many times Megan gave him head.
“Top pocket.”
I blink up at him, his cock rubbing against my corset-clad stomach as I reach inside his jacket, pulling out the condom he apparently brought with him for just such an occasion.
He waits, and I realize he wants me to put it on his cock. I glance up at him, his pupils dilated, and he shoves his pants and underwear onto the floor. His shirt is loose now, and I’m desperate to see the play of muscles beneath it, but too shy to touch him.
I rip open the condom and place the empty packet into his outstretched hand. His cock is thick and long beneath me, and I feel a surge of need. I want to lick it. I glance up at him again, but feel my resolve falter. He’s so authoritative, so demanding.
If he wanted me to blow him, he’d ask for it.
Placing the condom on the tip, I pinch the end and roll it down his length. He pushes upward against my hand with a soft sigh.
Relieved that I’ve done it without looking like a fool, I let go of him and let out a squeak as he lifts me against the wall again, lines himself up, and shoves the tip inside me without warning.
His hand clamps over my mouth, as I arch off the wall, my eyes closing as he slowly, commandingly, pushes into me. It’s a pleasure-pain now, one chasing the other as I squirm on his cock, unable to pull back as he shoves into me inch by inch, the stretch agonizingly good.
“You’ll wear this corset under your suit at work tomorrow,” he murmurs, his hand still covering my mouth. “And I’ll bend you over my desk and fuck you until you scream. In my office, you can’t hear a sound through those doors. I’ve made sure of that. But right now, you stay silent.”
He pulls out and then shoves back into me. My back is arching away from the wall on every push. I wrap my legs around his waist.
“Yeah, that’s it, no noise,” he whispers. “You wouldn’t want anyone to hear me pleasuring you, would you?”
I groan, trying to be quiet even as I hear the wet slapping sound of his cock driving into me.
There’s a hollow thud every time my ass hits the wall, and the thickness of his dick is enough to make me see stars as I close my eyes.
Being forced to remain silent intensifies the pleasure to a fever pitch.
After a few minutes of hard fucking, he lifts me and lowers us to the floor, yanking the corset down so that my breasts spring free.
He shoves his dick back inside me as his mouth lowers over my nipple.
His hand remains clamped over my mouth as he bites gently at the peak with his teeth, and I shudder even as he chuckles at my reaction.
Then, he starts to drive into me. The new angle sends shooting waves of pleasure through me as he thrusts his hips ruthlessly hard. I can feel the carpet burning against my skin as his hips hammer against me, my legs splayed wide.
The pleasure spirals, and I jolt violently as his other hand comes between us to rub my clit. I can’t help the sound that erupts out of me then, and two long fingers push into my mouth, stifling the sound.
The sensation is foreign and unfamiliar, but as he does it, I’m desperate for him to push them in harder, loving the feeling of his utter dominance over me.
That’s all it takes, and I groan around his fingers as I come, sucking at them. He stiffens above me, finding his release as I feel him pulse inside me, his cock emptying into the condom.
I shudder as we remain frozen like that, his body suspended above me as we come down from our release.
Gently, he removes his hand, pulling out of me, breathing heavily. He is kneeling over me, catching his breath before he stands and offers me a hand.
Once I’m upright, he turns me to face the mirror as he unties the corset and peels it off my body.
A proprietary hand presses over my stomach as he looks at me in the mirror. I’m naked in front of him, his strong thighs on display, but his jacket, shirt, and tie still immaculate.
His hand dips down, hooking between my legs as I gasp in shock. Crawford pushes against me, scraping his teeth over my neck.
“Did you come?” he growls, and I can only nod as his finger dips inside me again. As he withdraws it, he brings the tip to his lips and sucks the end of it as I watch, ridiculously turned on by the sight.
“Mm. Fuck. You’re gonna drive me crazy. Get dressed and tell Eleanora we’re buying this corset. You have free rein to get anything else you want. I expect you to look the part from now on.”
With that, he turns away, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt. In seconds, he’s gone, as if he’d never been there at all, and I’m standing naked and well-fucked, terrified Eleanora will come back and see me like this.
I rehang the corset, making sure it’s as pristine as possible. Then I tidy everything up and put on one of the suits she found for me. Folding my mother’s carefully away, I put it into a bag and wait for Eleanora to return.
As I do so, I look at one of the beautiful blouses hanging on the wall. It has a label dangling from it. Most of the clothes I’ve tried on didn’t have price tags, but this one does.
I flip over the label and stare at the number on the other side. It’s $800, just for a shirt.
I smooth a hand over the suit, astounded that anyone can be so blasé with money. My new wardrobe costs more than my car.
It feels wrong, having all this decadence when so many have so little. I resolve to share as much as I can with Annabelle. When she’s better and needs a job of her own, I can lend her anything she wants.