Chapter four
1144 Words
Diana's pov
My heart gives a hard, sudden beat.
For two days, I've been wondering when I'd finally meet him. Now that he's standing in front of me, I wish I had more time to prepare.
His suit jacket is still on, his tie loosened just enough to look relaxed. Mr. Blake is handsome, but that doesn't make me want him either. I blink, opening the door properly.
He steps inside, the heavy scent of expensive cologne following him. I swear he can hear my heart pounding against my ribs.
He sits on the large sofa in my room, his dark eyes fixed on me. He doesn't look away. He's studying me like a specimen in a lab.
The silence between us feels heavier than it should. My fingers tighten around the edge of my silk nightdress, the thin fabric twisting in my palms.
"Strip Diana," his low voice echoes through the room.
I flinch internally, but I look up to meet his gaze. This is the man I signed a four-month contract with. For the first time since I arrived at his estate, I realize there's no running away.
I swallow hard, trying not to let my hands
shake. Once I take off this dress, I'll be left in only my panties. I'm terrified. A man like Blake doesn't pay a life-changing amount of money for an inexperienced woman,
and I desperately want to hide how new I really am to this.
Hooking my fingers under the thin straps of my dress, I pull them down. The fabric glides over my skin and pools around my feet. His eyes roam my body, the intensity is too much. I look down at the floor, unable to hold his stare while standing practically naked in front of him.
My hands squeeze into fists. I've been naked in front of men before, but the second they moves towards me, panic seized my chest. I can't let that happen again. I watch his face, trying to guess what he's thinking. Maybe he hates my body. I'm slender, not skinny, with a flat stomach and moderate breasts. They aren't full or eye-catching, a detail that always made me self-conscious around other women.
"You don't have to force yourself to do anything tonight," his voice cuts through the quiet room.
I freeze. I expected him to demand what he paid for. My exes always treated intimacy like an obligation. They thought I owed them my body just for taking me out on a date. But Blake sits back, surprising me. He doesn't move closer. He just stays on the sofa, watching me struggle to catch my breath.
"You look nervous," he says gently.
I swallow the lump in my throat. "I'm fine."
One of his dark eyebrows lifts, completely unconvinced.
"You don't have to pretend with me," he whispers, his voice barely louder than a breath.
Something in my chest relaxes. The tight knot in my shoulders slowly unravels. For the first time tonight, I don't feel like a transaction waiting to be collected.
I look into his eyes and catch a glimpse of raw desire buried deep inside them. Yet, he's willing to hold himself back just to keep me comfortable.
I take a slow, deep breath to steady my nerves. I can't back out now. The money is already spent.
"I'm ready, Mr. Blake," I say, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I know why I'm here."
He looks at me for a long moment, assessing my resolve. Then, he presses a small panel on the wall behind him. A hidden wall compartment slides open smoothly. Inside, dozens of leather straps, silver restraints, and unfamiliar tools hang in neat order. A set of heavy steel handcuffs catches the light.
"Are you sure, Miss Hamilton?" He stands up, his tall frame blocking the warm light of the room. He selects a few items from the shelf.
"If we start this, you must finish it."
He drops them onto the edge of the mattress. Walking up behind me, he trails the tips of his fingers down the curve of my spine. A cold shiver runs all the way down to my hips.
"I'm ready—"
Before I can finish the sentence, his hand sweeps around the back of my neck and his lips slam onto mine.
The kiss is hot, heavy, and filled with an aggressive hunger that steals the air right out of my lungs.
His tongue parts my lips, taking control of my mouth before I can even process the shift.
I try to keep up, gripping his broad shoulders as my knees go weak, but he's relentless.
I pull back slightly, gasping for air. "Blake—"
He doesn't give me time to breathe. He leans right back in, capturing my mouth again like a starving man offered a feast. I tilt my head, trying to match his pace, trying to find my footing in the rush of it all.
In one fluid motion, he scoops his arms under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly off the floor. I wrap my legs around his waist to stay anchored.
He carries me to the bed and presses me down onto the mattress, his mouth never leaving mine for a second.
When he finally breaks the kiss, his chest heaves. He reaches for a soft feather tickler from the pile on the bed.
My heart hammers against my ribs. He reaches down, slips my panties off, and flings them aside. The intense, hungry look in his eyes makes my skin flush hot.
He doesn't touch me with his hands yet. Instead, he drags the soft tip of the feather slowly over my inner thigh, tracing a path upward toward my core, then dragging it up the middle of my stomach until it brushes my n*****s.
A sharp gasp escapes my lips. My hips twitch involuntarily against the sheets.
"Calm down, Diana," he murmurs, his voice dark and commanding as his eyes lock onto mine.
He lowers his head, cupping my breast in his palm, and takes the other hardened n****e into his mouth. The sudden warmth sends a shock straight down my spine, and an embarrassing arch pulls my back off the bed.
I bury my hands in his dark hair, tugging gently as his teeth lightly graze the sensitive skin before moving to treat the other side with the exact same slow torture.
He pulls back, standing tall beside the bed. His dark eyes burn down at me as he unbuttons his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. My breath hitches, my pulse racing as I wait to see what he does next.
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