CHAPTER TWO

Seraphina's jaw dropped slightly.

Crawl to him and beg him? Why the fuck would she beg him for his cock when she had already paid for this?

She had paid good money for this session, an embarrassing amount of money if she was being completely honest, and now he wanted her to get on her hands and knees and crawl across the floor like some desperate little—

Her core clenched.

Okay. So her body had an opinion about that and her body's opinion was extremely unhelpful right now.

She straightened slightly, lifting her chin, clinging to whatever was left of her dignity with both hands.

She was Seraphina Cole. She had a masters degree. She had never begged for anything in her entire life and she was not about to start because a man with very attractive man told her to.

"I... I can't," Seraphina stuttered.

The temperature in the room dropped immediately.

She watched his face harden, his jaw tightening, and his eyes going from dark to black in the space of a single second and her stomach dropped straight to the floor and kept going.

Oh no.

"I—" she swallowed hard, heart slamming against her ribs, "I mean... I find it h ... humiliating to crawl and beg." She wet her lips, fingers twisting in her lap.

"And besides I paid for this so I shouldn't have to beg for something I already paid for. You could just—" she gestured weakly, the sentence crumbling completely under the weight of his stare, "why can't you just f-fuck me without me having to—"

She swallowed back the remaining words.

Because he had risen from the couch.

She didn't even see him cross the room.

One second he was there and the next his hand was fisted in her hair and she was dragged off the floor roughly and shoved back onto the bed so hard the air left her lungs in one sharp gasp.

Before she could pull it back in his weight was on top of her, pressing her down into the mattress, and a hand wrapped around her throat.

And squeezed.

She gasped, fingers flying up instinctively to wrap around his wrist, not pulling, just holding on, her eyes going wide.

His face was inches from hers now, while she was busy gasping for hers, and his eyes were pure black and completely unreadable and absolutely terrifying and she had never been more turned on in her life.

"I tell you what to do and you fucking do it without questioning me" His voice dangerously soft, fingers tightening just slightly around her throat.

Her mouth opened.

Nothing came out. Just a broken breathless sound that was embarrassingly close to a moan.

Her lips parted again to speak

"Shut that fucking mouth. You fucking speak when I ask you to" He growled, eyes flashing dangerously.

She clamped her mouth shut instantly.

"You want to talk about what you paid for? You paid for me to use that pretty little body however I see fit not the other way around. You don't get to sit there with your wet little pussy dripping all over the floor and make demands like you have a single ounce of power in this room so I suggest you remember that before you open your little mouth again."

A desperate sound crawled out of her throat.

"And that disrespect? That is going to cost you" He released her throat slowly, dragging his hand down her collarbone, between her breasts, stopping just above her aching core and resting it there.

Her stomach dropped so fast she felt dizzy.

"Please—"

"I did not tell you to beg." His voice was almost gentle now which was somehow worse. "Here is what is going to happen. I am going to pin you down and spank that ass until it's red and burning and you are sobbing into the sheets. I am going to spread those pretty thighs and edge that dripping little pussy over and over until you are shaking and crying and begging me to let you come." He leaned down slowly until his lips were brushing her ear.

"And then I am going to leave you there soaking without a single fucking thing. Not even my fingers. I'll send you home with that needy little cunt aching and empty without a single inch of cock inside it. Go home to your sweet little husband like that. Wet for a man that isn't him and completely unsatisfied because of your own stupid mouth."

She stopped breathing completely.

How the hell did he know she was married?

She had taken her ring off.

And what the hell did he just say to her?

"No—" the word came out before she could stop it, panicked and shameless, "please no... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... please Sir I—"

"You're begging now," he observed, pulling back to look at her with those black eyes, something almost amused in them, "funny how that works."

"Please Sir I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I swear I won't. Please don't send me home without—"

She felt her face burn.

"Without your cock," she whispered. "Please. I need it. I need you to fuck me. Please Sir."

Something dark flashed in his eyes.

"Then get off the bed," He said quietly, stepping back and leaving her sprawled and trembling, "crawl back to the floor. Get on your knees. And beg me"

He straightened his sleeves, walked back to the couch then sat down like nothing had happened.

"Don't make me ask twice."

Her bones shook at the stern warning tone he used.

She was not going to do it.

She was absolutely not going to crawl across this floor and beg this man for his cock like some desperate shameless creature who had completely lost her mind.

She was not.

She rolled off the bed and lowered herself to her hands and knees.

Okay so she was doing it.

The floor was cool against her palms and her knees ached and she could feel everything, the air on her bare skin, the slick warmth between her legs that had been getting progressively worse and more embarrassing since the moment he walked in, the weight of his gaze burning into her back as she crawled across the room toward him.

Why did being watched like this make it worse?

Why did the humiliation of crawling naked across a floor for a man make the ache between her legs pulse harder with every single move she made forward?

She didn't want to think about what that said about her.

She reached his feet and stopped, looking up at him.

He looked back down at her from the couch.

His eyes were dark and patient and waiting and she hated him a little bit for how devastatingly good he looked sitting there while she was naked on her hands and knees on his floor like some desperate little pet.

A desperate little pet who was dripping onto the floor.

"Please," she whispered.

He said nothing..just raised an eyebrow.

A single slow movement that said that is not good enough without using a single word.

She exhaled shakily.

"Please Sir," she tried, her voice barely holding together, "please fuck me."

Still nothing.

Just that devastating unbothered look that made her want to scream and grind against the floor at the same time.

She knew what he wanted.

"Please," she breathed, all pretense of dignity dissolving right there on the floor.

A broken desperate whimper slipped past her lips.

"Please Sir. Please use this pussy. Please. I am begging you. I'll do anything. I'll be good. I'll do exactly what you say just please, please give me your cock. Please fuck this desperate pussy. Please Sir I'm begging you I need it so bad I can't—"

She stopped because she had run out of breath and pride simultaneously.

Her face was on fire. Her knees were aching. Her core was clenching desperately around nothing and she was kneeling naked on the floor of a BDSM club begging a stranger to fuck her with actual tears of desperation threatening to spill from her eyes and she had never in her life felt more humiliated.

She had also never in her life felt more turned on.

He looked down at her for a long still moment.

Then the corner of his mouth curved.

He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to hers, his eyes dropping to her lips and then back up to her eyes.

"Now...was that so hard?"