Claire’s immediate response fortified the pride of his accomplishment. She maintained their gaze as her small hand fumbled for the hem of her dress. “I can’t reach—”

Tony wouldn’t let her finish—he couldn’t. He needed to taste her. Entwining his fingers in her loose ringlets of hair, he tilted her lips upward and heard a small moan before his mouth seized hers. Unable to soften his approach, he took what was his. It wasn’t enough—he wanted more. When his tongue probed, her lips parted, allowing him to enter her warmth. Tony savored her sweetness as her arms once again encircled his neck. With his other hand, he reached for the hem of her dress and the cabin filled with her whimpers of anticipation.

He slowly lifted the beaded material and teasingly brushed her inner thigh. “Open your legs for me,” he commanded.

She obeyed and he continued to caress her soft skin. When her breathing labored and he neared his destination, Tony stopped. Releasing her hair, he sat up and gazed down at her blushed cheeks, smudged lipstick, and nearly exposed body. Grinning, he murmured, “You were amazing tonight.”

Softly, she replied, “Thank you.”

Taking her in, he reminded her. “But the night isn’t over.” His playful tone vanished. “Now, lift your dress and let me see if you have truly behaved.”

Slowly reaching for the length of material, Claire kept her eyes fixed on his. As the material rose, she replied, “I promise, Tony. I’ve followed your rules.”

He couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked—offering herself to him. That, combined with the sound of her calling him by his personal name, was enough to release the painful tightness in his slacks. It seemed unreal that he could be on the verge of exploding, and she’d yet to touch him. Surprisingly, at that moment, that wasn’t what he wanted. He yearned for something else, and they both knew his desires came first.

Taking off his jacket and then his tie, Tony continued to devour Claire with his intensifying gaze. He couldn’t look away as she silently watched his every move. When he slowly and deliberately moved to his knees and grinned, he sensed her relief. It intoxicated him that something as insignificant as a change in his facial expression could influence her world. Beckoned by her scent, his sultry tone returned. “Yes, I would say you have been a very good girl.”

He lifted each one of her soft, smooth calves, savoring their shape while in the high heels, and rested them on his broad shoulders. With his intentions clear, Claire tipped her head back against the leather seat. Soon, her moans from earlier returned and grew louder. When her fingers gripped the leather seat, and he knew that she was about there, he stopped. It was his private game, but she was learning the rules.

“Tell me,” he commanded.

“Anth—Tony, please.”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

“You, I belong to you.” She fidgeted against the leather.

“Because,” he prompted.

“You own me.”

“Until?” He taunted her, teasing, kissing, and suckling her inner thigh.

“Please!” She took in a deep breath. “Until you decide.”

“Say it.”

“You own me until you decide.”

“Good girl. Perhaps—” he reached for her skirt, bunched around her waist.

“Please,” she begged, holding tightly to the material. “Please, don’t stop.”

Grinning and satisfied, Tony resumed his quest. Oh, there were times he’d leave her like this—unsatisfied—and make her switch places. It would be then that she would fulfill her duty. Of course, she didn’t have the option to stop or taunt. Other times, he’d take the conversation further, making her tell him the amount of money he’d spent to secure her financial freedom.

Not tonight. Tonight Tony wanted to experience the benefits of her positive consequence. It didn’t take long before he did.

Failure is no more a permanent condition than success! For even if you succeed, there’s still another test.

—Gene Bedley

As Eric approached the house, Tony took in the dark windows and glanced at the corner of his iPhone—after 10:00 PM. Since Claire’s windows faced toward the backyard and woods, he couldn’t see them or her balcony. He could imagine them and her suite … and her in her suite, with no other purpose than to wait for him. It was a thought that seemed to be recurring more and more often, slipping unexpectedly into his consciousness. Why not? She was in his house solely for his pleasure and enjoyment, and after the day and evening he’d just had, he deserved some him time.

After three months, he admitted—at least to himself—that this arrangement was working better than he ever predicted. Each test he presented, or that presented itself, solidified his control and power over Claire’s life. He controlled everything about her—almost. Tony had allowed Catherine to share in his power, to a point. He set boundaries and Catherine adhered to them. She couldn’t overturn any of his decisions. Tony didn’t want Claire to think she could pit one of them against the other. Besides, Catherine’s reign dealt with mundane day-to-day issues—clothing and schedules. Tony controlled the more important matters, and of course, if he decided to trump Catherine’s plans for a day, he did.

That would happen on days that Tony decided to work from home. He’d made it clear that when he was home, Claire was to be available to him at all times. On those days, he’d not only trump Catherine’s plans, but Claire’s too.