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CHAPTER TWELVE

CONOR

Walking into the lounge, my boots echo lightly as I tread across the white marble floors. I immediately notice Victoria. She’s sitting alone at a small table near the bar, her back straight and posture perfect—a Domme in full control of her surroundings. I can’t help but appreciate the power that radiates from her as she watches me approach, waiting impatiently for me.

She wouldn’t discuss what she wanted on the phone, but I could guess—and had my own wishes. “Conor,” she greets me, her sultry voice smooth and measured.

“Ms. Conrad,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral, though a slice of intrigue creeps into my chest.

She shifts in her seat, dropping her elbows onto the table and slightly bowing out her chest as a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. “You’ve had your tongue my mouth, my tits in yours, and your cock in my girlfriend. I think you can call me Victoria.”

“Victoria.” I tip my head, trying to hide my amusement as I take the seat across from her. Looking at her, I try to read her and figure out where this conversation is headed—what offer, if any, she is going to lay on the table.

She takes a slow sip of her martini, her gaze not once wavering from mine for what feels like an eternity. “I’d like to discuss an arrangement with you.” Her offer is crisp and calculated.

“Go on,” I respond, leaning in slightly, letting her know I’m open to listening to her.

“I’m interested in repeating the other night,” she states matter-of-factly.

I shake my head, the gesture immediately affecting her controlled demeanor. “I’m not. You asked for one night with me as your good boy, and though I tried, we both know I didn’t succeed.”

“You didn’t,” she recounts.

“We both know damned well I’m not going to submit to you.”

“I know,” her voice falters, and her eyes momentarily drop to the table between us. And now I’m fucking intrigued . This isn’t about merely repeating the other night or having me as a bull for Elena. This is about them . It’s about her.

Unable to hide my curiosity, my brow raises. “Are you afraid to admit you’re interested in submitting to me, Victoria Conrad?”

Her stare hardens, and she takes a sharp breath, slowly exhaling it and gathering her refined composure before answering. “I want to explore it, but I have terms.” She has a slight edge to her tone, and I momentarily place it as aggression before she releases her authority. Even now— asking to submit to me—she’s trying to maintain control.

“Terms?” I ask, trying to mask my eagerness. “What kind of terms do you have in mind?”

Her eyes flick between me and her drink. “First, this is casual. Nothing serious. We’ll see you once a week, maybe more. No strings. No commitment. Just sex.”

Settling against the back of my seat, I pretend to let her words marinate. The two of them for a few hours a week? Completely non-committal? Did I hit the fucking jackpot or am I fucking dreaming? Fuck it… if it is a dream, t’s a good fucking dream.

“And I’ll be fucking you as well?” I ask, my voice deep but filled with an uncontrolled curiosity. The thought of sinking inside of her—and commanding her body again as she rides my cock—sends a thrill through me. “Both of you submitting to me.”

Victoria pauses, her fingers tightening slightly around the stem of her glass. “Yes. Occasionally,” she answers. “I enjoy providing pleasure more than receiving it.”

“Trust me… having your pussy wrapped around my cock would provide me a great deal of pleasure,” I retort smugly. Her cheeks redden—a reaction I was not expecting. I enjoy this glimpse her poise faltering. My thoughts quickly drift to her losing her control, letting me crack through her icy demeanor, seeing her fall under the weight of submission, and letting herself be taken…

I need to see her fully let go.

A renewed serious expression spreads over her face. “And Elena?—”

“I already know how much I enjoy her sweet cunt,” I interrupt, Victoria’s eyes narrowing as her jaw clenches. I am unable to discern if her response is jealousy or something else.

“My relationship with her will not change. I will still be her Madame, and she will submit to me.”

“Understood.”

She nods, her gaze not breaking from mine as she regains her stoic composure. “This will never be more than I’m offering,” she states with a challenging intensity. “We aren’t interested in anything serious. This is nothing more than sex and a little exploration of submission between three consenting adults. It will not go any further.”

I almost laugh at the foolhardiness of her statement, assuming that I would want more. “Do yourself a favor,” I playfully scoff. “Make sure the two of you don’t fall in love with me.”

Victoria chuckles and finishes the last of her martini. “Then it’s settled.” She sets her empty glass on the table and stands, seemingly satisfied with the arrangement we’ve come to. “Friday night. Here at the club.”

“My place,” I correct when she dictates the details of our next encounter.

Hesitating for a moment, she reaches into her purse, pulls out a card, and slides it across the table. With a commanding tone, she gruffs, “Fine. This is my cell. Text me your address.”

“Please,” I press, both for my amusement and to test her. The more she exudes her control, the more I want to challenge her. The more compelled I am to push back, forcing her to relinquish a little of the power she is clinging so desperately to. “I want the two of you alone. And you not concerned with the eyes of the club watching you explore your submissive side.”

The honor of watching her let go and finding her submission… I don’t plan to share that. Her submission will be mine and mine alone.

“Please,” she begrudgingly whispers, stepping from the table.

Grabbing her wrist just firm enough to cause her to pause, I keep my voice equally as low and gravelly. “Good girl.”