The Wrong Wife (Morally Grey Billionaires #5)(15)

His gaze intensifies. "You do, huh?"

"Of course, I do. I’m not stupid." And I’ve read enough smutty books to be somewhat of an expert on the topic. Not that I’m going to tell him that…

"And yet, you’re here, in this room, with me?” he murmurs in that silky voice which seems to slither down my chest and coil in my belly.

I squeeze my thighs to control the ache that flares there and tip up my chin. "Yeah, uh, I needed a job, and the bartender said they were looking for someone who—"

"Who?" His voice is low, almost deceptively soft, but the skin around his eyes creases, and I know then, he’s not anywhere as composed as he’s pretending to be. "What did he tell you?" The command inherent in his words causes a spurt of something to twist my belly. Oh, god, why is the simple act of talking to him an erotic dream come true?

"Don’t keep me waiting. Tell me. Now." He lowers his voice to a hush, and something inside of me loosens.

"He mentioned they needed a woman to entertain one of their clients with specific tastes and that whoever was chosen for the gig would be paid a lot." The words rush out of me.

His jaw ticks. "Specific tastes?"

I nod.

"And you didn’t think to ask what that meant?"

"Uh, I thought, you know, that it’d be like Fifty Shades of Grey." And I’ve always wondered what that kind of a relationship would be like. Again, not something I'm going to tell him.

"You. Thought?" A nerve pops at his temple.

"Y-yes."

"Do us both a favor and stop thinking, because clearly, it makes no difference, even when you do." A coldness pours off of him. This man… Even his anger is like being dropped in the middle of an iceberg. I shiver. Goosebumps pop on my skin.

"No need to be rude." A shiver runs down my spine. "Also, I’m cold."

He looks me up and down. "And you’re surprised, why?"

"Hey, this is what I was told to wear."

"And you always follow what you’re told to do?"

"Not… Always, but this was a paid gig, so—" I raise a shoulder, and his eyelid twitches. Somehow, that feels so much more ominous. The cold vibes pouring off of him drop the temperature until I feel like I’ve shut myself up in a freezer. Strike that; freezers are warmer than the glacial frigidness of his expression.

"And it didn’t occur to you to check into what was going to be expected of you? Did no one warn you about what goes on within these walls?" His voice is tight, the tone ominous. I swallow, then slowly shake my head. "I-it’s not their fault. I may have, uh, slipped through the checks. I, uh, may have coerced him into doing me a favor."

"A favor?"

I nod again. "He wasn’t going to, but I pulled the sympathy card and told him how broke I was, and that this was my last chance to pay for"—I glance away, then back at him—"pay my rent. Also, we agreed that he’d be right outside the room, and if I yelled, he’d come to my rescue."

He blinks. "You’d yell, and he’d come to your rescue?”

I scowl. "That’s what I said."

"I see." He releases his hold on my wrist, then steps back. "Spread your legs."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

I scan his features and the expression on his face is bored. He holds my gaze, and the seconds stretch. A hollow sensation yawns in my belly, a melting sensation grips my thighs, then I slide my legs apart.

He moves so quickly that, one second, he’s standing there; the next, he slaps me between my legs, right on my swollen, sensitized pussy. I yell. I can’t help it.

"What the hell was that?" I snap.

"These walls are soundproof. You can scream all you want—indeed, it’s expected that you will—and no one is going to help you."

My throat closes. That hollow sensation in my belly spreads to my chest. "Oh. Right."

He tilts his head, and of course, I feel a flush coming on. I glance around, then point toward the corner of the ceiling. "Security cameras—"

"Are not allowed in private playrooms. Here, only my word goes, as the Dom; and you, as the sub, are expected to fall in line with it."

I swallow. "So, I am—"

"You are under my control. I hold absolute power over you. When you walked in that door, you left all choice behind."

My pussy clenches. I squeeze my thighs together. I didn’t like the sound of that, did I?

"O-k-a-y." I laugh, but the sound is so uncertain. I flinch. "Look, you’ve had your fun. You’ve proved your point. It was a mistake to take this job. So, guess I’ll say goodbye now and be on my way." I begin to slide my legs together, but he plants his foot between mine.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"I didn’t say you could move, did I?" His words are said in a conversational tone. In fact, from the expression on his face, you’d think we were having a conversation around the office water cooler. Not that this man would ever be seen near the water cooler, but you know what I mean. There’s a very attentive look about his eyes. He’s looking at me with keen interest. Like I’m a lab specimen, or like he’s a predator and I’m a little animal he’s toying with for his pleasure, before he moves in for the kill.