Dahlia’s POV
As I waited for him, I sat at the computer and played on the Internet, already dressed for the night. Picture this: a leather skirt with nothing under it, boots with the silkiest fishnet stockings ever found and a soft, tight, dark blue corset, with my auburn hair falling down in long dark waves. I eagerly await the moment that I will hear the sound of the door clicking closed as he comes in; waiting for the moment, I would feel his hand on my thigh and see him kneeling beside me. I love the contrast of the black collar with his skin, the way he looks at me as if pleading me to do the worst I can.
I laid my head back in the chair to just sit and dream, and suddenly I realize his hand is on my thigh; I never heard him come in. I smiled softly and opened my eyes to look at him
