Debt of Desire Chapter 3: First Night Rules

Cami stayed on her knees between Elias’s legs for what felt like forever.

Her thighs burned. Her back ached a little from holding still. But the worst part was the ache between her legs. Deep. Throbbing. Wetness kept sliding down her inner thighs, slow and warm, reminding her every second how turned on she was. How exposed. How completely at his mercy.

He hadn’t touched her again since that one light brush. Just sat there. Watching. Sometimes he sipped from a glass of water he’d poured himself. Sometimes he scrolled on his phone. Calm. Like having a naked woman kneeling at his feet was the most normal thing in the world.

Her breathing got louder the longer it went on. Small shaky inhales. Soft whimpers she couldn’t hold back.

Finally he set the phone down.

“Eyes up,” he said.

She lifted her gaze. His eyes were dark now. Hungrier.

“You’re dripping on my floor,” he said. Quiet. Almost amused.

Her face flamed. She wanted to close her thighs. Hide it. But he’d told her to keep them apart. So she did.

“Sorry, Sir,” she whispered.

“Don’t apologize. I like it.” He leaned forward. Elbows on his knees. Face closer to hers. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

She swallowed. “I… I’m aching. Down there. It’s… pulsing. I can feel every heartbeat.”

“Where exactly?”

She hesitated.

He raised one eyebrow. Waiting.

“Between my legs,” she said. “My… clit. It’s swollen. And inside. Empty. Like it needs something.”

“Good girl. Honest.” His hand came out. Slow. Cupped her chin again. Thumb stroking her lower lip. “Do you want to come tonight?”

“Yes, Sir.” The words came out fast. Desperate.

He smiled. Small. Dangerous. “Not yet.”

She made a soft sound. Half whine. Half plea.

“Rules first,” he said. “You need to know them before anything else happens.”

He stood up. Towered over her.

“Stand.”

She pushed to her feet. Legs shaky. Knees red from the carpet.

He walked around her again. Slower this time. Fingers trailing lightly over her shoulder. Down her spine. Over the curve of her ass. Not grabbing. Just touching. Claiming.

“Rule one,” he said. “Your body is mine. You don’t touch it without permission. Not your breasts. Not your pussy. Not even to scratch an itch. If you need relief, you ask. Nicely.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Rule two. You sleep naked. Always. In my bed unless I say otherwise. No covers unless I allow it.”

Her stomach flipped at the thought of his bed. Of being there. Waiting.

“Rule three. You eat what I give you. Drink what I give you. If I want you on your knees while I eat dinner, you kneel. If I want you sitting at the table like a good girl, you sit. No arguments.”

She nodded.

“Rule four. Orgasms belong to me. You don’t come unless I say the word. If you’re close and I haven’t given permission, you stop. You beg if you have to. But you don’t come.”

Her clit twitched just hearing it. She pressed her thighs together on instinct.

He noticed. “Legs apart.”

She spread them again. Quick.

“Rule five. You speak when spoken to. You answer honestly. No hiding. No lies. If something scares you or hurts too much, you use your words. Yellow to slow down. Red to stop. I’ll listen. Always.”

That part made her relax a fraction. He wasn’t a monster. Not completely.

“Rule six. No clothes in the apartment unless I choose them. You stay bare for me. I want to see you. All of you. Every reaction.”

She felt fresh heat rush to her face. And lower.

“Last one for tonight.” He stopped in front of her. Close enough she could feel his body heat. “You thank me. For every touch. Every order. Every time I let you feel good. Say it out loud. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

He studied her face. “You’re still shaking.”

“I’m… scared. And turned on. Both at once.”

“Perfect.” He reached down. Took her hand. Led her through the living room, down a short hallway, into a bedroom that looked like it belonged in a magazine. Huge bed. Dark sheets. Windows that showed the whole city sparkling below.

He stopped beside the bed.

“Lie down. On your back. Arms above your head. Legs spread.”

She climbed onto the bed. Sheets cool against her hot skin. She stretched her arms up. Grabbed the headboard without being told. Spread her thighs wide. Open. Vulnerable.

He stood at the foot of the bed. Watching.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Already so wet. So ready.”

He climbed onto the mattress. Knees between her legs. Hands braced on either side of her head. Caging her without touching yet.

“Tonight I’m going to touch you,” he said. “But you don’t come. Not until I say. If you do, there will be consequences. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her voice cracked a little.

He lowered himself. Mouth close to her ear.

“Beg me to touch you.”

“Please, Sir,” she whispered. “Please touch me. I need it so bad.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere. My breasts. Between my legs. Please.”

He moved down her body. Slow. Kissed the side of her neck. Light. Then lower. Over her collarbone. To her breast. Tongue flicked her nipple once. Sharp. Wet.

She arched. Gasped.

“Thank you, Sir,” she breathed.

“Good girl.”

He sucked the nipple into his mouth. Hard. Tongue swirling. Teeth grazing just enough to sting. Her other breast got his hand. Pinching. Rolling. Pulling.

She moaned. Loud. Couldn’t help it.

He switched sides. Same attention. Same slow torture.

Then he moved lower. Kisses down her stomach. Tongue in her belly button. Making her squirm.

When he settled between her thighs, she thought she might die from the anticipation.

He blew soft air over her clit. Cool against the wet heat.

She jerked.

“Stay still,” he said.

She tried.

His tongue touched her. Flat. Broad. One long slow lick from entrance to clit.

She cried out.

He did it again. Slower.

Then he focused on her clit. Circles. Light flicks. Sucking gently. Then harder.

Her hips bucked.

He pinned them down with one arm across her stomach. Strong. Unmoving.

“Sir… please…”

“Not yet.”

He slid one finger inside her. Slow. Deep. Crooked it. Found that spot. Pressed.

Her whole body clenched.

Another finger. Stretching her. Fucking her slow while his mouth stayed on her clit.

She was shaking now. Sweat on her skin. Moans turning into whimpers.

“I’m close,” she gasped. “Sir, I’m so close.”

He pulled his mouth away. Fingers still moving. Slow. Teasing.

“Beg.”

“Please let me come, Sir. Please. I need it. I’ll be good. I’ll do anything. Please.”

He watched her face. Eyes dark.

“No.”

He pulled his fingers out.

She sobbed. Soft. Frustrated. Aching.

He crawled back up. Kissed her mouth. Let her taste herself on his tongue.

“You did well,” he said against her lips. “First night. You obeyed. No coming without permission.”

He rolled off her. Lay on his side. Propped on one elbow. Watching her pant.

“Turn over,” he said. “Ass up. Face down.”

She obeyed. Shaky.

He ran a hand over her back. Soothing. Then over her ass. Squeezed.

“Tomorrow we go deeper,” he said. “But tonight… you sleep like this. Needy. Wet. Thinking about who owns you.”

He pulled the sheet over her. Light. Barely there.

Then he stood. Walked to the door.

“Sir?” she whispered.

He paused.

“Will you… stay?”

He looked back.

“Not tonight. You need to feel it. The ache. The waiting. That’s part of belonging to me.”

He turned off the light.

The door clicked shut.

Cami lay there in the dark. Body on fire. Mind spinning.

Ninety days.

Eighty-nine left.

And she already knew she’d beg for more.

Every single night.