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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ELENA

Sitting on the couch with my legs tucked beneath me, I anxiously trace the rim of wine glass in my hands. I’ve been impatiently waiting for Victoria to return from her meeting with Conor for several hours. The door of the apartment clicks, and my nerves are suddenly mixed with hesitation and the fear of disappointment.

She steps into the living room, and her gaze immediately finds me. There’s something new and different in the way she looks at me—something possessive. She stares at me in silence, her eyes briefly glancing disapprovingly at my glass, but she doesn’t comment on it. After placing the stemless glass on the coffee table, I’m surprised to find my hands shaking a little as I stand. “Madame? How did it go?”

Her lips pull into a controlled smile as she places her Dior purse on the chair and removes her camel-colored overcoat. She is silent but carries a calm confidence that silently lets me know everything went according to plan. Her plan .

She collects the glass I filled without permission when she walks past the coffee table and carries it into the kitchen with her. Her heels click across the hardwood floor with every confident step. Dumping the glass, she turns to face me, leaning back slightly against the counter. “He agreed,” she states simply, but I can hear the delight she’s trying to mask. “We will be meeting at his place on Friday night.”

Unable to hide my excitement, a broad grin spreads across my face. Seeing my happiness, Victoria’s eyes soften for a moment. Just as quickly, she returns to her controlled demeanor. Her tone businesslike she shares, “There are rules, sweet girl.”

“Yes, Madame. Of course.”

“It will be the three of us together, a dynamic different from what you are used to,” she explains, and my face contorts slightly with confusion. “You will be my submissive, always. But when we play, you’ll be his too, so long as you continue to desire his dominance.”

“Understood, Madame.” I nod.

“I, too, will offer him my submission,” Victoria discloses, shocking me. But knowing how grounding and freeing I find submitting, I immediately comprehend her interest in exploring another side of herself. “But I even as I do, I will also continue to graciously accept yours.” Closing my eyes, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I swallow hard as I absorb the full weight of her words, relief washing over me. Our boundaries and the comfort I find in our dynamic aren’t changing.

Stepping forward, barely aware of my own movements, I wrap my arms around her neck. “Thank you,” I whisper, squeezing my arms tighter and pulling myself onto my toes to hug her. “I don’t know what to say except thank you, Madame.”

“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl. I’m doing this for both of us. I want you to be happy and to have what you need,” she responds, the intimacy of her husky voice vibrating through me. “And truly, I’m thankful that you’ve shown me a part of me I didn’t know existed. We’ll explore this together. You. Me. Us .”

Her words burrow warmly into my chest. Us .

“I take care of my girl because I know how appreciative she is for everything I provide.”

“So much, Madame.” I place a soft kiss against her cheek. “I am so thankful for you and everything you do for me.”

Victoria looks down at me, her gaze growing intense—darker. Her lips curve into a smile, a dark and devilish smile that I have come to know far too well. “Tell me, sweet girl… Just how grateful are you?” she asks slowly, seductively, and I hang on every word.

The way she asks—knowing that I can’t take this arrangement with Conor for granted—makes my heart race. Victoria wants me to thank her. She wants me to show her my appreciation, proving my gratitude.

My throat bobs with my swallow, my pulse quickening as I meet her gaze. My stare falling between us, honoring the power she holds over me, I whisper, “I’m so grateful, Madame.”

Cupping my chin and lifting it gently so I meet her eyes, I watch as her smile deepens, radiating approval. “I believe you,” she husks. “And you will show me, won’t you?”

“Yes, Madame,” I inhale, acknowledging her command. A subtle one, but a command, nonetheless.

With my eyes locked on hers, I lower to my knees. I stare up her body and run my hands up the sides of her calves. Slipping my fingers under the hem of her black pencil skirt, I inch it up her thighs as I continue to slide my hands toward her hips. As her skirt bunches around her hips, Victoria leans against the counter and watches me slide her black lace panties down her legs. She lifts her foot, and I carefully slip the sheer, delicate fabric over her heel. Repeating the process when she lifts the other.

Victoria takes a small step forward and widens her stance, leaving her bare pussy only a breath away from my lips. So close that I can smell her sweet musky scent. Tipping my head back, I part my lips and stick out my tongue as I position myself beneath her and wait.

“Such a good girl,” she croons, her hands sliding into my hair and fisting it lightly. Using her tender grip to hold me in place, she rocks her hips and slides herself over my tongue. I press it more firmly against her, and she slowly swirls her hips over it.

Licking and sucking as she rides my face, I mutter into her pussy, “I’m so fucking grateful for you, Madame.”

She grinds over my tongue, riding my face hard as her moans fill the kitchen. Her hips spasm and her thighs squeeze against my cheeks when she comes. She tightens her hold on my hair, the burn radiating around my crown, demanding I let her continue to use my face. And I do so eagerly, needing to please my Madame.

“Fuck!” she hisses, coming again and abruptly sliding from my face. She pulls me to my feet and roughly claims my mouth, licking the taste of herself from my lips and tongue. Asserting her dominance, she firmly bends me over the counter and yanks my leggings over my ass. Her hand slaps against my ass cheek, spanking me, the heat of her palm burning against my skin. “And I’m just as grateful for you,” she breathlessly growls, shoving her face into my pussy from behind, licking so needily that my eyes roll back as I claw at the counter beneath me.

Fuck…