Chapter 17
Three times.
I took her three more times until we both passed out in my bed, with her cuddling into my arms, her body pressed against mine so she didn’t sleep in the wet patch she had left.
It had been some time since I had been with a woman who was so greedy for pleasure that I was able to push her to the point of soaking through sheets.
There was something supremely satisfying about that.
I had not intended to miss an entire day of work the day before.
But, if my plans were to go the way I needed them to go, I had to make sure Stella had no other options.
Taking her virginity, as well as her money, left her pretty much in my hands.
There was no other bargaining chip a girl like her had.
It was 4:00 a.m. when I woke up. The alarm clock on the side of my bed told me that I still had another hour of sleep if I wanted it.
I didn’t. What I wanted was still fast asleep in my arms.
So I took her.
I shifted her body until she was lying on her stomach.
I could see the bruises I had left on her thighs and ass in the soft, ambient pre-dawn light that was coming from outside.
Just having this girl in my arms was enough to make my cock harder than it had been when I was in my twenties. I could outperform every man my age, but with her, I could outperform any man in the city.
I pulled her hips up, and even in her sleep, she was so desperate for me that she pulled her knees up and responded as I pushed them apart.
I pressed my cock inside her more gently than I would have preferred, but I knew she would be sore. I used that to my advantage, glorifying in the delicious groan of pain and pleasure coming from her lips.
Her pussy was still soaking, although I wasn’t sure if it was more from my come or if she was still greedily wanting more.
Stella Deiderich was a cock-hungry little thing, and she was all mine.
I hadn’t counted on that.
It was actually going to make my plans easier and much more enjoyable.
She woke as I pushed fully in, her back arching and her hips adjusting, giving me better access.
I thrust in again, and she moaned, pushing her hips up further, begging for more.
There wasn’t time for marathon sex this morning. So I reached down under her and tweaked her sensitive, swollen little clit as I fucked her slow but hard.
Her walls instantly fluttered around me, sending waves of pleasure up my spine. I gritted my teeth and held on, wanting to make it last just a little longer.
“Come, Stella,” I demanded with a quick sharp slap to her ass, and her body obeyed.
God, that level of control felt amazing.
She collapsed under me as I kept going, fucking her like I owned her. Because that was exactly what this was.
I owned her body and soul, and as soon as she accepted that, her life was going to be easier.
When she came again, I let go and filled her tight little cunt to the brim for the fifth time. I made a mental note to have a staff get her the morning-after pill.
Her belly swelling with my child so soon would raise the attention of people I didn’t want to deal with quite yet.
“Where are you going?” she asked, her voice still slurring with sleep.
“Shower. You stay right there. Do not move. Or else.”
She sleepily nodded as I went to the ensuite and took a scalding shower, rinsing the sex sweat and everything else from my body. I did what I did every morning in the shower and planned my day.
There was a lot that needed to get done and not a lot of time to do it. Not to mention adding the mystery of whatever the fuck her father had been up to. There was so much work to be done, transactions to unravel, and meetings that I could not put off.
I was barely holding the O’Murphy family back from trying to murder my son and the DA, as it was.
I really should not have spent all day fucking, but a day between her thighs was hard to pass up.
It was tempting to do it again, but some plans needed to be made, and I needed to make sure she understood exactly where she stood in this situation.
It was going to be far easier for me if she behaved.
And I just didn’t have the time to deal with a spoiled little girl throwing temper tantrums.
I got out of the shower with the towel wrapped low around my waist and went back to my room to dress for the day.
Stella was sitting up now, the blankets pulled tight over her body like they could somehow erase the intimate knowledge I already possessed.
“What happens now?” she asked, her voice low and timid.
“When we are in this room alone, you will refer to me as sir.”
I hadn’t planned on making that a rule, but something about the way she moaned it while I was balls-deep inside of her or the way she said it as I was spanking her was just so unbelievably hot. I wanted to hear the words from her lips constantly. There was no way I was going to let that go.
“Why?”
I looked at her, raising my eyebrow, the only warning she was going to get. There wasn’t time to properly spank her again this morning, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Why, sir?” she repeated, a tint of red coloring the tops of her cheeks.
I think she liked it too.
“Because it pleases me. That’s all you really need to know.”
“Okay, sir.” She took a moment while I went to the closet to get my suit for the day.
I grabbed a suit that was a particular favorite. It was one of many that I had made on Saville Row. All my suits were custom-made and from the finest materials, in the English style. But this one with the wool blend in the dark grey check was always my favorite when dealing with the Irish mob.
The single-breasted jacket was unmistakably English. Even the subtle grey check pattern spoke of refined British taste. It always irked the Irish, even if they didn’t know why. It never failed to knock them off their game and give me the upper hand.
“What happens now?” Stella finally worked up the nerve to ask.
“Whatever I want to happen, baby girl. But as far as my plans with you, I’m going to sort through the financial mess your father left you in, and you’re going to spend every night in this room grateful for the opportunity. In public, you’re going to act like the most gracious and thankful little ward anyone has ever seen. If anyone asks you, you are to tell them that your father trusted me to ensure your future, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered obediently, making my cock stir.
“In private, you’re going to be my perfect little submissive baby girl. You are going to do as you’re told at all times, without complaint. You are going to sleep in this bed every single night and let me take you however I please, and you are going to be grateful for it. Or I’m going to continue punishing you until you’re grateful for it anyway.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice cracking as tears filled her eyes.
“After a respectable amount of time, we will announce our engagement.”
“But—”
I crossed the room and snatched her chin, tilting her head back. “Was that an objection?”
She bit her lip then shook her head.
“Good. And you are going to follow the rules. At all times. Is that clear?”
“What rules?”
“The rules I am making just for you.”
I hadn’t thought of any rules, but it was a good idea.
A woman like her needed rules to follow.
She craved to be a good girl, to be rewarded just as much as she was punished. It was only fair to give her clear-cut rules to follow.
“You are to behave at all times. I don’t even want you talking to another man who might get the idea of spending some time with what belongs to me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She said the words, but her eyes went down again.
“It’s not all bad. If you’re a good girl, prove to me that you can be trusted, then I’ll give you an allowance that will be more to your liking. But if you disappoint me, if you fail me, I will strip you of everything you own and toss you out in the cold. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Please not the cold.”
Her tears were falling down her face now, and she seemed more worried about being cold than homeless. Whatever worked to keep her in line.
“Good. Now, what do you say to your sir?”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Good girl.” I stood back up and went to get dressed, standing next to the bed, and letting her watch me. I liked the feeling of her eyes on me. I liked knowing that a woman who was around half my age was still so enthralled with my body.
“What happens after?” she asked.
“After what?”
“After you figure out what went wrong with my father’s finances. Do I just get everything back when I’m twenty-nine, like the judge said?”
There was a hopeful lilt to her words that was actually adorable.
She was hopelessly naive if she thought she was ever going to see a fucking dime of her estate. Her father really did leave her too sheltered.
“No, we will be married by then.”
“What? You said after a respectable amount of time. I thought that would be a few years.”
There was no fucking way I was waiting years to make this treasure truly mine. Another man would snatch her from me before then.
“In six months,” I repeated more firmly, “we will announce the engagement, and you will start planning our wedding. You will be married to me by the end of the year.”
“Why would you want to marry me? You said I don’t have any money. There was nothing of value…”
“Because I have plenty of money. I have power, and I have influence, and it is well past time for me to take another wife. You are destitute, but beautiful and well-bred. So if you can prove that you can be a good, obedient ward, then I will turn you into my perfect submissive trophy wife.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand. I want you to be mine, so you will be mine. You will behave, you will follow the rules, and you will spend every night showing me how grateful you are in this bed. In return, you will have access to whatever you need. Whatever you want, I will have new black Amex cards made with an allowance that I deem appropriate. Currently, you’re at two hundred a month. Prove to me in the next week that you’re a good girl, and I’ll increase it by one hundred percent. Keep behaving, and you’ll get more money.”
“So you’re paying me to sleep with you?”
“No, I don’t pay for sex. I’m incentivizing you to follow the rules. I’m being far more gracious than I have to be. The fact of the matter is that you are going to marry me because that’s what I want. And I always get what I want.” I tucked my shirt into my pants and grabbed the belt, folding it in half and cracking the leather.
She jumped as the loud, sharp snap cut through the early morning air.
“If you misbehave, not only will your cards be taken away, but I will show you what happens to bad girls. Or was one lesson not enough?”
“No, sir. I understand.”
“Good,” I said as I looped the gray and navy-blue silk tie around my neck and slid it under my collar.
“But, what if…” Stella’s words trailed off, and I turned to face her as I tied my tie on with nothing more than muscle memory.
“What if what?”
“What if I’m not ready to get married?”
“You’re twenty-six years old. You’re plenty old enough.”
“I know I’m old enough, but what if I’m just not ready? What if I want?—”
“What you want is irrelevant when it contradicts what I want. Now get dressed and meet me downstairs for breakfast. You are to be fully dressed and at the breakfast table by 7:00 a.m. every morning, do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she said with a bite to her tone.
“You want to try that again?” I asked, looking back in the mirror at my perfectly tied Windsor knot.
“Yes, sir. But what am I supposed to wear?”