Chloe was a stuck-up, sexy little servant girl with an abundance of attitude, and at twenty years of age, she'd still had no one to fuck it out of her.
So I'd paid her Lord off, and now she was in my house, a spell tattooed around her neck in gold writing, claiming her as mine. But she was so sheltered, she didn't even understand what that meant.
Yet.
I stepped into the bedroom, not bothering to lock the door behind me. Unnecessary.
The space was full of obscene extravagance of white and gold and emerald, as were my House colors. When I entered, she stood from the massive bed, the jade silk of the dress I'd chosen, covering just enough of her body that there was something to unwrap. Her breasts filled it beautifully, holding it up, two peaks hinting at her nipples pressed against the fabric. I felt my cock harden at the sight of her.
Her golden blonde waves tumbled down her back freely, and her smooth, curved thighs peeked through between the short dress and white stockings. She had bright green eyes--which had drawn me to her--pale skin, and rosy cheeks that were heated with indignation as I approached her.
"I am not something you can just buy," she hissed, her finger coming out in warning as I got close. Her eyebrows were adorably crinkled, a frown on her perfectly round lips. I could already tell that commanding her to please me was going to be extraordinary. It was going to break her virtuous little mind.
"Apparently, you are," I replied, letting my arrogance come through in my low voice.
I'd asked her nicely during my visit to the House she'd been serving, and she'd rejected me. And with money, magic, and--let's just be honest here--
extraordinary
beauty, I wasn't used to being rejected.
"My father--" she began. But I cut her off.
"Has received five gold coins for your... relocation," my lips twitched up in a smirk that the word. "And that is that."
"I don't believe you." But her words were less sharp now, her emerald eyes darting between mine as she looked up at me as if trying to catch a lie.
I reached out a hand to caress her cheek but she drew away sharply, catching my fingers.
Delightful.
"How is it a woman like you hasn't ever had a man?" I asked, sitting down on the bed and watching her. Curious as to what she would do.
I wanted to draw this out. She took a few steps away, clearly on alert.
"I have more important things to do than mess around," she replied.
"Oh?" I asked. She crossed her arms, covering those lovely breasts of hers.
"A woman can't make her way in the world if people think she's a..." she trailed off, catching the grin on my face.
"Go on, say it." I felt my magic coil within me at the order.
"I don't want people thinking I'm a slut," she blurted. She swallowed, and I wondered if she'd realized yet that she hadn't had a choice.
"Well," I lifted my hands, showing the surrounding room. "You'll be provided for here, no more need for 'making your way in the world'," I said. "So, tell, what does
that
mean for the stick you have firmly lodged up your arse?"
Her eyebrows shot up, and she took another step from me.
"Stay," I murmured. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening. "Well, answer my question." Her lip quivered slightly, but she had no choice.
"I don't understand," she whispered.
She
really
was a prude, wasn't she?
"If you don't need to work," I spelled it out for her. "Would you take a man?"
"I would not let you touch me if that's what you mean." A beautiful fire raged in her eyes. My cock grew harder in my pants at the thought of seeing those eyes while using her--making
her
use herself on my body.
"Come, sit on my lap, lovely."
The snarl on her face was delectable. "I don't think I will--" but her body was betraying her and she stumbled up to me and climbed onto my lap, her knees touching the blankets. I enjoyed the warmth of her thighs and ass pressed against me. She stiffened as she felt my hardness beneath her. "Why... why did I do that?" the brief tremor in her voice sent a surge of lust through my veins.
I lifted my hand, connecting to the spell on her neck that marked her mine. A thin, luminescent golden chain materialized in my palm, slinking across the distance between my hand and her neck, where the golden tattoo lit up like a delicate collar.
She reached for it, her fingers brushing the magic, her eyes going wide as dinner plates. "What have you done?" she asked. I coiled the chain in my hand, giving it a little tug, drawing her face closer to mine.
"I own you," I whispered.
"No," she hissed, trying violently to shove herself away from me.