Chapter 9 Kat
KAT
PLAYLIST: DIRTY THOUGHTS – CHLOE ADAMS
Iam a dominant. And hell, didn’t I expect to ever be in a situation where I had to sub. I make it a rule not to, because I just can’t. But for Lilian? Damn, I’d woof and meow on a leash if I have to at this point.
I know I shouldn’t. By all means, I have a loaded gun in a storage to kill her and a knife in my pocket to stab her carotid.
It cost me all my power to answer the questions as the person I pretend to be, while my body longs for her.
Not Ella. Me. A longing that I can’t deny, that it’s chewing on me from the inside, from the moment her lips had touched mine.
I don’t even know what I am doing here.
I am lost in a limbo between past and present, between Ella and me, between hate and longing.
Lilian walks slowly over to me, around the couch table in front of me, where I sit. She steps between my legs, and I stare up into her eyes.
I want to touch her.
Feel her.
My chest heaves up and down as she comes close.
So close.
My mind calms down.
Just one finger trails my throat until she pushes my chin up with it.
“You have no idea of all the things I am going to do with you,” she says silently. Her longing pours from her eyes, and I see she’s fighting with herself as much as I am.
It is too perfect not to tease her.
“All those words,” I say and tug my mouth into a devilish smirk.
I can’t say ‘Lilian’ before she pushes me back harshly.
Yes, let me play you, I think.
She walks away, takes a big gulp from her champagne glass with her back to me.
Gods, that ass!
How I’d like to slap it.
Lilian turns slowly towards me and unfastens her ascot. Women in suits are hot, but women like her, blonde long hair, ice-blue eyes, in this epic, tailor-made female suit with high-rise pants, heels, and an ascot? I mean, damn.
She unties the ascot and walks over to me. Every step is deliberate. Present. Confident. She walks around the sofa, where I still lean against the backrest, immobilized from my view.
“Hands up,” she orders me when she stands behind me, and they go up in the air like pulled up by an external force.
She slings the ascot around my wrists, and I know she has practiced this move many times, because within a matter of seconds, my hands are tied tight. I look up at her with my head fallen back.
“Eyes on the floor,” she snaps at me, and I do as told. It is an exciting experiment because, usually, I am the one who plans and analyzes, who demands and orders. It gives me pleasure. It allows me to tune out. Now, being the submissive, I try to do the same.
Lilian pulls my hands back and down, so they’re behind my head, elbows up and wide, to present my chest and breasts.
I know that trick, too.
“You will not move until I tell you to,” she says, and nothing more happens.
She is testing my patience, and while I am usually one of the most patient people on the planet, I can’t right now.
My mind isn’t focused. My mind has always been a monkey mind, and I fight my own feet not to start twitching up and down.
Mind over matter, I tell myself in my head repeatedly, without success.
My body feels like it's being ripped apart when Lilian finally walks around me and sits down on the low table in front of me.
As I am not allowed to look up, I stare at her beautiful feet with the black high heels.
But instead of distracting me, it turns me on even more, because I can imagine spreading her legs for me with only those heels on and nothing more.
I want to move. Grab her. Throw her back onto the table. Undress her. Kiss her. Enter her with my fingers. Make all these sensations go away. Make her scream and beg.
I can’t restrain myself at this point anymore.
The entire situation is ripping me apart.
How did I even get here?
I shouldn’t.
None of this should be happening.
“You really don’t like to sit still,” she says, and I want to scream at her for doing this to me.
Her hand wanders up my thighs. Her touch.
I focus all my energy on the touch, and a heated wave of desire burns through my core.
Calmness spreads through me.
“I don’t,” I say, and my eyes wander up. I need to see her face.
“Oh, oh, oh,” she says. “I told you not to move.”
I don’t care, because there’s that flicker in her eyes. A flicker that will light an untamable fire when incinerated, and I will be the one to do it.
I stare at her and bite my lip, fully aware I am provoking her.
Slap!
Her palm meets my cheek and throws my face to the side and down.
I bite my lip harder because damn, the heat of the slap burns through my cheek, and I am turned on beyond. I like rougher play.
I could keep my eyes on the floor where they are right now, but I wouldn’t be me if I were that easily defeated. I bring my head back up and glance darkly in her eyes, a challenging smirk appearing on my face.
“You will not move until I tell you to, or it’ll be your bum next time with twenty,” she says darkly.
Oh, Lilian, I tell myself. Watch me.
I lean forward, my gaze wandering down until my face is close to hers.
“Make me,” I whisper before I lean back and X-ray her with my eyes. I watch her lose herself and catch herself, as a dangerous grin appears on her face as she gets up.
She climbs onto my lap and sits. I need to gasp because a wave of desire washes over me.
She leans in until her mouth touches my ear.
“You will make me come three times today with your tongue and fingers alone,” she whispers darkly, “And you are not allowed to touch yourself or come.”
“And what happens if I do?” I ask with playful innocence.
“You won’t be able to sit for a week,” whispers Lilian, her lips trailing down my neck. Goosebumps spread over my skin. “And if it comes to it, there is also clause 23.2.”
23.2. Knife play. Non-negotiable.
Her words were the one thing too much.
My arms with the tied wrists snap around her, and I use the restraint to push her into me.
She can’t escape me, because my wrists are tied and my arms around her.
I roll my hips against her as I look up, my head slightly tilted.
The lust in her eyes is equal to the desire to punish me, and I feel that need in me to push her more.
“Tell me,” I say, “How does this make you feel?” I whisper as I push up one thigh over the other and roll my hip so my thigh massages her cherry.
Lilian is lost for words as a moan escapes her throat with the next rolling of my hips.
The sound of it goes straight into my core, and a tickling sensation spreads through it.
If I am not entirely mistaken, Lilian has never had anyone take care of her in any way other than the typical obedient sub would. She has never had anyone talk back to her or give her cheek, and maybe that is why she doesn’t know how to let herself fall.
And I am going to show her.
I keep rolling my hip, my thigh pressing into her from beneath. Lilian begins moving her hips, too, following my direction. Her breathing gets heavier and faster. At some point, she throws back her head and leans into my touch.
“You are so damn hot,” I tell her. “I am going to make you come ten times in a row until you don’t know your own name anymore.”
She gasps and moans, and I soak in the effect I have on her.
I fasten my movement while I grasp her even firmer around her ass as much as I can with my tied wrists. They already hurt, and my leg is close to cramping, but hell, what do I care?
She is so close, her fingers dig into my chest, and just a moment after, a shudder runs through her, and a vibration rumbles through me. She freezes as the orgasm overcomes her.
I can’t help myself, as my face transforms to gleeful pride. I made her switch and listen to me.
Lilian brings her head up and stares at me with beautiful rose cheeks, sweat on her forehead, and a glimmer in her eyes.
I can see it for three seconds before she slides on an icy mask. I remove my hands from around her, and she gets up immediately.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” she rounds on me as she gets distance between her and me. Her hands flatten her clothes, and I can see how unsettled she is.
It is only then that I realize I completely forgot who I pretend to be. I became Ella, because Lilian likes shy, submissive girls. And I switched into me. The dominant, confident killer. I can see in her gaze that she can’t process what happened.
I rub my hands together to loosen the knot of the ascot and slide them out as I get up and walk up to her. My palm grasps her cheek, and I almost expect her to slap me again, but she is frozen. Wide eyes staring at me.
“I only did what you told me,” I whisper as I lean in on her to place a kiss on her other cheek, “Made you come.”
I let go of her. She stares at me wildly, almost in horror, as I turn and walk to the door. I need to get out of here before she figures out I'm pretending to be someone else.
I have my hand on the handle when she calls after me.
“Where do you think you are going?”
I turn.
Those piercing eyes.
The rose cheeks.
The wild gaze.
The desire.
The anger.
The mess.
But I can’t.
Because I have forgotten myself.
“Home,” I say and leave. She doesn’t stop me.
And only when I am in the elevator and back in the Manhattan air, I realize there is no home. There is only the mess I made. Because I couldn’t stay away. I have betrayed myself.
I should have put a bullet in her head.
Stabbed her with the knife.
Who cares what she has done if she’s a greedy billionaire anyway?
“Fuck,” I breathed out. “What have I done?”