CHAPTER 6: THE RUTHLESS MASTER

(POV: ALEXANDER THORNE)

My head felt like it was about to explode. I stared at my computer screen in my office at Thorne Tech, reviewing financial reports that no longer held a single ounce of my interest. The stress of the corporate world was a daily, crushing weight. But nothing irritated me more than the soft, lingering knock on my glass door. My former mother-in-law, Sorya, walked in without an invitation. She held a folder of documents in her hand, wearing that same, nagging look of entitlement she always did.

"I’m here to pick up this month's check, Alexander," she said, tossing the papers onto my rosewood desk.

I took a deep breath, forcing my raging anger under control. Six years ago, my personal life had been completely shattered. My wife died during childbirth, along with our baby. She had a pre-existing medical condition and was never supposed to get pregnant, but she ended up conceiving by accident anyway. The guilt of her death was entirely mine to bear. And now, I paid this woman an alimony pension—and I would keep paying it for the rest of my miserable life.

"I’ve already told you that I can wire this money directly into your bank account," I replied, my voice as cold as ice. "There is absolutely no need for you to come to my company."

"I prefer to receive it in a check. In person," she countered with a malicious smirk.

She loved waiting in my corridor. She loved forcing me to look at her face so I would never, ever forget what happened six years ago. Since that dark day, I swore I would never get involved in a serious relationship again. Women became nothing more than tools for physical release. I began frequenting BDSM clubs in SoHo. Holding absolute, unyielding control over a woman in bed was the only thing capable of silencing my demons. I signed the check aggressively, ripped the paper out, and thrust it toward her. She snatched the money and finally left.

Minutes later, the door swung open again. This time it was Saul, my best friend. Saul was also an experienced Dominant. We shared the exact same taste for absolute control.

"The old hag again?" Saul asked, sinking into the armchair across from me with a knowing smirk. "You need a distraction, Alexander. How about we hit the club tonight? You need to slip into your Ares persona and clear your head."

"Maybe," I muttered, massaging my temples.

"Don't forget we have that special scene booked for this Saturday," Saul reminded me, his eyes gleaming with dark lust. "We haven't done a duo session in a while. When you play as Ares and I go as Eros, nobody can handle the heat."

"Yeah, the legendary Hell Fire duo," I muttered, a dark smile tugging at my lips. "Have you chosen the submissive yet?"

"Yeah, I booked that exclusive redhead sub. She agreed to take us both on, as long as we don't handle her too roughly and pay double."

"Women always think about the money."

"And we men only think about women. The two of us are going to have a hell of a time with her on Saturday."

"I hope so. I don't promise to be gentle..."

Saul smirked, fully agreeing with me. He handed me a folder containing the agenda for next week's board meeting and stepped out, leaving me to my solitude.

Later that evening, I headed to my penthouse. I took a long, hot shower and stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. My broad shoulders and the rigid, chiseled muscles of my chest still carried the residual tension of the day. I ran a hand through my short, cropped, dark hair. Standing at nearly six-foot-five with a massive, imposing physique, I knew I easily intimidated people. I glanced down and saw my cock, still flaccid but heavy between my legs. I desperately needed a solid fuck to quiet the voices in my head.

I dressed slowly. I put on my tailored black suit, which hugged my powerful frame flawlessly. I grabbed my dark mask. It was time to descend into the underbelly of SoHo.

I entered the club under my alter ego, ARES. Standing in the VIP section, I casually observed the performances on the stage. The women all looked exactly the same—slender, plastic, and entirely artificial. I usually grew bored of them within minutes. That was the reason I never signed exclusivity contracts with anyone.

Until she walked out.

A blonde with rich, voluptuous curves stepped onto the glass runway. She looked completely clumsy and utterly terrified. She made a few awkward movements, which actually made me let out a low chuckle. She had thick thighs, heavy breasts, and an aura of pure, untouched innocence.

The sight gave me an instantaneous erection. My cock twitched and throbbed, hardening completely against the fabric of my dress pants. She had a sweet, vulnerable gaze that screamed a total lack of experience.

I am thirty-three years old, and I have a lot of things to teach a girl like that. I crave the power of making a woman submit to my every command. Right then and there, I decided she was going to be mine. I went over to the terminal and placed a forty-thousand-dollar bid to secure the private session. I paid the full amount so the club would take its ten-thousand-dollar house f*e, and she would receive the full thirty thousand dollars directly into her account. Saul selected a brunette and headed to a different wing. I walked alone toward booth seven.

The girl stepped into the room. I evaluated her coldly. Up close, she seemed even more timid. I commanded her to take off her robe. She obeyed, revealing that breathtakingly voluptuous body before crossing her arms over her chest in pure shame. My desire skyrocketed. I hauled her up by her jaw and dictated my rules.

The real shock came when I questioned her about her history and experience. She confessed she was a virgin. My cock surged inside my pants, pulsing violently. The only virgin I had ever touched in my entire life had been my late wife. Now, this mystery woman was going to be the second. Training a woman from scratch in the world of BDSM is a grueling process. It takes immense work. But I had already bought her time. If I didn't break her in, another man would gladly take my place.

I caught the scent of wild berries on her skin. My entire mindset shifted. I dragged my hands over every single inch of her body, tracing down her thighs all the way to her toes. I slid my hands back up and touched the center of her panties. She was completely soaked. Slipping my fingers underneath, I stroked her wet pussy, then brought my fingers to my mouth. I tasted her. It was one of the most delicious flavors I had ever tasted in my life. It drove me completely insane, sparking a desperate urge to do terrible, beautiful things to her.

I walked out of that booth fully satisfied, but consumed by a territorial possessiveness I had never experienced before. I couldn't leave her free for anyone else. I marched to the front desk, ordered a three-month consent contract to be drawn up with the heaviest kinks included, and commanded the thirty-thousand-dollar advance to be wired. She would accept my terms, no matter what. She was going to belong to me once a week. I was going to thoroughly explore that virgin body until she begged for my touch.