Dominated Heir 2 Ch. 03

eh, first draft and kinks are being worked out, so a change in POV on some of the last stuff but I dont think anything important was added to the stuff before this. And these will be a bit slow since I have other things going on that are more cuddly and less smutty.

It wasn’t the heir’s words that filled me with unease, but the subtle depth to his voice. He’d shifted in tone and touch since the mention of my ex, who bothered him beyond simple jealousy. They may have been words spoken in passing earlier, as though he pretended to show only slight irritation, but I knew otherwise.
All the more, I wondered how long this spoiled heir desired to have me. How long he hated the knowledge of another man sharing my bed.
Despite that, my temporary Master also showed a strange niceness that seemed outside what I expected. As though a human lurked beneath the asshole facade. A person that I needed to keep content and to somehow not let him think about the other man.
However ridiculous that seemed, I could appreciate this new side of him that would be easier to handle since I’d already learned how to navigate a man’s jealousy. Sure, it would be exhausting to keep up this little act of slave for a month, but well worth it.
And once this agreement ended, I wouldn’t owe the wealthy heir a damned thing. He couldn’t accuse me of being a gold-digger like my mother or of me using his father for my education. I may not have enjoyed earning my degree through these means, but I couldn’t bear the thought of owing someone anything simply because of female charms. Only my mom could rightfully be hated and ridiculed by people for doing that.
After scooping more of the cool numbing cream, he slid his fingers into me again. Adding to the soothing act, his free palm glid the outer length of my trembling thigh down to my knee before returning upward. If he hadn’t been wealthy, I could easily fall in love with how considerate and sensual his touch was.
“I’m going to add mirrors, so you can see how much I love fucking this pussy I own. Would you like that, my little slave?” he asked, carefully working the cream that squelched against the abundance of fluids leaking from inside me.
Something about the way he’d repeatedly spoke as though I were nothing more than a possession forced me to hold back calling him a prick. I wouldn’t be owned by anyone, certainly not a rich man accustomed to women willing to do anything to be his. But something about it strangely excited me in how he seemed to love the thought of me being his.
Sure, his intent went no further than mockery of my situation, but he’d wanted to fuck me despite the loathing he’d expressed upon meeting me. In a way, I wanted to be his perfect little fuck toy to gloat even more once I left him behind.
No self respecting woman would want to watch a man thinking he owned her. For about a month, I had to attempt to act like my mom until this ended. “Yes, Master,” I lied.
The way his fingers ungently left me meant something dissatisfied him about my response. How had my mom tolerated such hot-and-cold men? The sort whose narrowed eyes she knew how to woo, controlling their moods with perfection. Maybe my ex-boyfriend still lingered in his thoughts.
Silence took over. Maybe he’d quietly left to find something to punish me with, but that made no sense. I answered his question quickly and as he expected. After a few minutes, I caught sight of him in my periphery.
Not the packages. I didn’t want to discover the next gift. Certainly not after his rapid mood change.
“Master,” I spoke as seductively as I could. Maybe I could turn this around by saying something he wanted to hear.
“Yes?” he quipped as he picked up something large that didn’t appear as well wrapped as the other packages.
The snappy response had me at a loss for words. How many torturous things had he already done to me? What did he want to hear? Something to cater to his bloated ego.
“Thank you.” I tried my best not to squirm, even though the discomfort and soreness were becoming unbearable.
“For what, slave?” He didn’t add anything endearing as though he claimed me, but he wanted me to be his little toy.
“For knowing.”
“Knowing what?” The white packaging crackled and tore when he lifted the misshapen gift.
“That I was miserable with…” I forced an uneasy swallow. “Him.”
He huffed before a few long strides in my direction. He appeared definitely not happy by the mention.
“Punish me, but please forgive me.” Now I could look up to him as he came to tower high in front of me. I mostly only saw the package, but he lowered it to rest against his leg.
“Your past wrongs were forgiven earlier.” He at least had a bit more calm even though my ex probably made him mad to think of. But maybe not in this way.
And there was one truth to this point. “I can’t forgive myself for refusing to talk to you while choosing to be with a jerk.” I might have been given a good reason to dump my ex sooner, and well before having this heir became pissed to the point of making demands of me. Though, that seemed far-fetched.
He knelt in front of me at level so his dark brown eyes engulfed mine. At least he didn’t seem livid, but resentment lingered. “You’re asking me to punish you, so you can forgive yourself for fucking that little shit and choosing to be a bitch to me?”
“So I earn the forgiveness for everything I’ve done to you.” I searched his gaze, both worried and hopeful. I had to earn the right not to owe him money, anyway. This went with his idea of me not receiving anything he thought I didn’t deserve.
He pondered; more inquisitive in the way he examined me. Finally, he spoke, “Your wish is my command, little one.”
My nervous exhale revealed both fear and relief. Somehow, my stupid move managed to calm him. Though, a sinister sort of calm may have replaced what would have otherwise been a short-term flash of anger. But at least it would be another way of proving I didn’t want anything for free.
He grinned, though it still worried me. “I got you another present.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“Oh, don’t look so worried.” He raised it to my mouth. “Go ahead, open it.”
I bit the waxy paper, and he pulled the item upward, tearing the wrapping. Whatever the odd shapes of folded connected black pipe and a small black box were didn’t comfort me.
He pulled on the cylinder, extending it. “This adjusts to the perfect height to fuck you while I’m gone.”
Whether I’d made the request for punishment or not, he’d already decided on that thing to torture me with. Now I had to wonder how bad he might make things just for the fun of me wanting to be punished for something that had him privately brooding for a while.
He held the contraption in a way he appeared to lean on it. “I know you don’t want me to leave you, but sometimes I need to. And you don’t want me to be the one to lengthen that pretty pussy for all the fun we will spend the rest of our lives having together.”
I hadn’t a word cross my mind in response to the rest of our lives spoken so gracefully.
“Don’t look at me so. This isn’t meant to be punishment, but your eagerness to please me will begin to prove you meant every word you said.” He sighed with a slow shake of his head. “I don’t want to keep holding back, and your pretty little cunt needs to be able to handle another two inches.” He stroked my cheek, too warmly. Far too soothingly. As though he actually considered himself benevolent. “You don’t want to be crying when I fuck you, do you?”
“No,” I muttered. It appeared my hope to save myself ended in self injury. “Thank you, Master.”
“That’s my good little slave. Geralt seems to be running late, but he should be here soon to make sure the base is bolted to the floor so the machine doesn’t wind up off balance while it fucks you.”