Chapter 16 Mia
MIA
PLAYLIST: MISBEHAVE – FRANCES LION
Not nearly done here, I repeat in my mind. My body feels like pudding already. Whatever this is, it is otherworldly. I feel like I'm on drugs when I let my head fall to the side and watch Victoria with chains in her hand, getting something out of a drawer. My eyes can’t focus properly.
She comes back, and I see it's a black leather harness with a—a cock attached. She puts on the harness. No way. I can’t—I need to get up and—
“You will stay in your state and do what I tell you to,” she says. “And that is riding me.”
Stay in your state, I repeat in my head. Right. I just do what she tells me to do.
So, I stay down and wait, eyes down.
Victoria climbs back on the bed.
“Kneel high in front of me, back to me,” she says. “I’ll fix your arms so it’ll be easier. You can put your weight into them.”
I just nod, whatever.
When she is done, she sits down in the same spot as before, only now I have my back to her. Her legs slip underneath me.
I hear her spitting.
My heart begins to race.
Her hands around my hips, grasping my arse and guiding me.
“Get up and sit down on the strap on,” she says. “Slowly and carefully.”
I lean and pull myself up with my arms because my legs are too weak. I feel the cold material at my entrance.
Oh gods.
“Sit down,” she says.
And I slide onto it.
Bloody fucking hell.
The sensation it causes me.
I gasp.
It’s so deep in me.
“Arch,” she says, and grasps my hair to pull me back.
“Ouch,” I scream, because the angle of that thing in me was quite painful.
“Yes, Princess?” she asks me.
“That was—“
I don’t even know if it was painful or just uncomfortably arousing.
In me, a burning desire is released.
“Grab the chains and roll your hips,” she orders me. “Present me your arse.”
I do as told, but I don’t come very far. A burning feeling builds in my core.
And then she slaps my arse.
“Faster,” she says. And I do as told.
Another slap.
I have to moan.
And moan.
More slaps.
I can’t take it any longer.
“Please, Mistress, I need to come!” I shout.
“Come,” she says, slaps me again, and my body explodes as if a volcano spits lava from my core. My hands, legs and entire face are tingling.
And then comes the relief. With the exhaustion, I collapse. I can’t hold myself anymore. I just hang there in the chains.
Whatever.
I don’t even know where my body begins and ends.
When I wake, bright sunlight reaches my face. My body feels utterly knackered, including hurting joints, a burning bum and throbbing head. Yet, I feel great. And when I open my eyes, I see I’m in a bedroom.
The same sheets as in Glenmere Manor. Only this time, we're in London, and Victoria is lying next to me in what must be her bed, sleeping peacefully, one arm on my belly.
I don’t even remember getting here.
I lift the sheets. I am wearing nothing, nor is she.
A wide grin appears on my face as flashes of yesterday's activities come back to me. I still can’t believe any of it really happened. But when I look at my wrists, I can see it did.
I turn to my side and glide with my palm over my bum, burning heat radiating from it. It did indeed happen.
I brush over my lips. Her taste is still on them—I can smell her all over me, and my core tingles just from the thought of it.
Her.
Victoria Grace Fitzroy.
The woman who lies next to me with all her beautiful lines and body. I watch her sleep for a long while, until I can’t keep my hands to myself any longer.
I snuggle up to her, brush through her hair and kiss her.
Softly.
Calmly.
Resembling the many things I feel right now.
“Good morning,” I whisper against her lips when she starts moving.
She opens her eyes, and for a moment she seems be utterly taken aback.
I freeze and lean back.
“No,” she says and closes her eyes as she pulls me close. “Continue.”
And I do.
Her hands wander around me and pull me close, feeling my body, caressing it, devouring it.
Our tongues circle around each other as the kiss becomes hotter.
She pushes me onto her with her one leg between mine. Her hands grasp my hips and rub my clit over her naked thigh. She rolls her hips against mine.
“Ughm,” I moan against her lips as the tingling sensation begins to spread through my core.
At some point, I can’t continue kissing. I need more air. I need to moan. I need to roll my eyes back and let myself be consumed by the sensation she produces in me.
She grasps my face and holds me close, our noses touching each other.
“Roll your hips,” she orders me. “Make yourself come. And when you do, you will not break the gaze into my eyes.”
I roll my hips, press my clit onto her thigh and rub over it. She pushes against me in the most perfect rhythm, guiding my own movement with the grasp around my face.
I feel the energy in my core building up.
One, two, three more movements.
“Oh gods,” I moan, panting heavily, and relief spreads through me. I do not break the gaze into her glittering eyes, even though I want to throw my head back and lose myself in the sensation.
Her lips find mine.
“Good morning to you, too,” she says, and we both smile against each other's lips.
I am released and let myself fall onto my back.
“How did we get in here?” I ask.
“You crawled,” she says. “On this leash.” And she grasps a chain from the nightstand next to her.
I flush, horrified.
“I have never seen anything comparable,” she says. “I have also never taken anyone into my bed,” she adds. “I think I can get used to it.”
I laugh away what she just said, because I don’t know how to answer it.
“Let us have breakfast,” she says and gets up, wrapping herself in a silk morning robe.
“Can I shower first?” I ask.
“Say please,” she says smugly.
I get onto my knees at the foot of the bed, my thighs slightly parted, with my eyes locked down.
“May I please shower first, Mistress?”
There is a moment of silence where my heart pounds so loud I fear it might be heard in the entirety of London.
Her fingers lift my chin.
“You may, Princess,” she says, her mouth tugged into a wide grin. “But no touching yourself. I am laying out clothes for you.”
She lets go of me, and I stare after her.
Lying out clothes for me.
Did she really just say that?
I somehow feel like a little girl with her mommy picking out clothes for her, and the worst thing about it is that I like it. I don’t have to give it one more thought. I can go shower and enjoy it without a single thought about what I am going to wear or how I look.
And so I do.
When I am done, I dry myself, wrap my hair in a towel and return to the bedroom.
Victoria looks at me in my towel. She is already dressed, with her hair done and makeup on.
How the hell did she do that in such a short time?
“Dry your hair,” she says, “And come back naked.”
I just do it. No thinking. Just doing it.
My hair is a wild, fluttery mane when I come back out, the towel around my body falling to the ground.
“Put that on,” she says, handing me clothes, and while I do, she gets a hairbrush from the bathroom.
She has gotten something very fitting for me, the bra, the pants, the pullover, everything feels like it was made for me, and I secretly think that she organised it last night when I apparently was somewhere between total ecstasy and passed out.
“Kneel on the bed, back to me,” she orders me, and I do.
She brushes through my hair, and I can’t believe this is really happening.
“We need to do something about this hair,” she says. “I’ll have my stylist and hairdresser come over tomorrow.”
“I need to get back to my cats,” I say.
“You can do whatever you wish unless you are back here tomorrow at four.”
Bossy. Demanding. Possibly overstepping. And I am definitely in for it.
She braids my hair into one big braid that hangs over my shoulder.
She pulls and tugs until it seems to be to her satisfaction.
“Head back,” she says, and I let my head fall back. “You’re such a good little girl doing what I say,” she says, a proud smile on her face. “We’ll have a lot of fun, Miss Phillips.”
Her lips find mine from above, and everything feels so wonderfully weightless. Easy. Liberating.
“Get up,” she then says and ends the kiss. “We’re having breakfast and afterwards a meeting with the lawyers.”
“The lawyers,” I repeat suspiciously. My chest clenches.
“Yes, the lawyers. Because we are going to go after everyone involved in the little scandal.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“You simply have to put your signature on a document, and I am taking care of the rest,” she says.
“But the media—“
“The more they harass you, the more you get.”
“But I don’t need the money.” I really don’t. With money comes responsibility. And I don’t want it.
“Give it away then,” she says as we walk to the door.
I consider her for a moment. My eyes wander to my left, and I see myself in a mirror.
I don’t even recognise myself.
The hair.
The clothes.
I bite my lip because I love how I look. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed by her. Her face shows a self-sufficient, almost smug smile.
“And that woman?” I ask because I am actually scared of the woman who allegedly vandalised the house because she is some sort of stalker. At least that’s what everyone in the media said.
“A shadow of the past we will deal with,” she says. “I promise you, I’ll take good care of you.”
“Don’t,” I say.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t make any promises you can’t hold up,” I say, because I haven’t forgotten what happened last time she promised me something.
Victoria looks at me for a moment.
“Then, how about this—” she says and grasps my cheek with her hand. “I promise you to do everything in my power to protect you, take care of you and—“ She bends down until her lips are touching mine as she whispers, “Love you with all I have.”
Love me.
A grin appears on my face as I kiss her.
“Okay,” I say with a bit of cheek in my tone. I am also swooning, but I can’t show her that.
So I take her hand. “Let’s have breakfast,” I say.
I have tea. Victoria reads a paper. I get a book from the shelves without asking and read it while sipping on my tea here and there.
It feels so unbelievably normal.
Henry comes and tells me my cats have been fed and were the sweetest babies, he even shows me a photo of Pepples and Porridge lying on him like they only do on me, little traitors.
“Thank you,” I say. “For being so considerate.”
“Thank her,” he says.
“Did you tell him to do it?” I ask incredulously.
“I did indeed,” says Victoria without looking up from her newspaper.
I don’t even know what to say, so I go back to reading my book. But I can’t focus. Instead, I grin at the pages like an idiot.
“Come,” she says at some point. “Lawyers will be here in a minute.”
We’re walking to a study filled with old books, a single massive desk from another century, and a golden painting.
“Ah, Bill,” says Victoria, while my eyes are occupied taking in the room. I am distracted, and if Victoria hadn’t given me a pat on my back, I wouldn’t even have noticed.
“This is Miss Mia Phillips, my companion,” says Victoria and I spin round. She didn’t say that, did she?
My eyes find hers, a dangerous shimmer in them.
“Mia, this is Bill Davies, my star-lawyer who has yet to lose a case,” she says with a chuckle.
I shake hands with Bill. But whatever conversation is happening, I can’t focus. The only thing on my mind is: She said I am her companion.
So we’re a thing now. Officially?
I am told to sign something, and I do so without asking any questions.
Bill leaves, and the moment the door is closed, it bursts from me.
“So we are official now?”
Victoria laughs. Her rich, self-assured laughter.
She leans in, grasps my chin and kisses me.
“We are,” she says. “Unless, of course, you have other plans.”
“I don’t,” I say and kiss her again.
“Good,” she says. “I’ll tell Henry to get your cats and other stuff here.”
It takes me several moments until I realise what she just said.
“Wait—I can’t—Bella—me here—that’s all a bit fast, isn’t it?” I stutter out.
“I require my sub to be with me at all times,” she says carelessly. “Miss Thorne is welcome to visit any time.”
“You want my cats and me here all the time?”
“I did say that already,” she says, slightly annoyed.
“Say it again,” I say.
Her eyes narrow.
“I wish for you to stay here with me, including your cats,” she says.
I grin because I made her repeat herself.
“Ten with the paddle for the cheek,” she says when she sees it.
My grin only gets wider as I test how far I can go.
She nods knowingly as her mouth tugs into a grin.
Before she can do or say anything, I shout, “Henry!”
He comes into the entrance hall.
“If you would be so kind as to move my cats to this house,” I say like a right old lady of the house without breaking the gaze into Victoria's eyes.
“Very well, Miss Phillips,” says Henry and withdraws.
The moment the door is closed, Victoria says, “Get up there,” and points with her eyes upstairs, where her pleasure room is. “Right now!”
“Of course, Mistress,” I say, but can’t keep the grin from my face.
I will, undoubtedly, pay for it. But I counted on it. I might be her submissive, but I will always keep my free will—even if it drives her nuts. It is supposed to.