Page 84 of His to Possess
“Okay,” I whisper and a little explosion of joy and excitement goes off inside me when I say the word. When I give in. “I trust you, Philip.”
He closes his eyes, as if overcome with relief. “Thank you,” he begins, but I’m not finished.
“I trust you, and I want you,” I say, more confident, more sure, than I’ve ever felt. “I don’t need the auction. I just need you.”
His eyes snap open, flashing hot and needy. “Are you saying you’re ready?”
This is it,I tell myself. Final decision time. There won’t be any going back from here.
“Yes,” I tell him without pausing to question myself. “I want you, Philip. And I’m ready.”
Lilah
I’m so excited about my decision, so giddy about the promise of losing my virginity to Philip, that I can barely contain myself. I want to jump on him right here in the theater and go to town. And it’s not like we would be the only ones. From the hushed moans in the room I’m pretty sure at least a few couples are getting freaky.
“I want you in my bed,” he says, voice husky with barely restrained desire. “I want your first time to be in my bed.”
I’m so disappointed I could cry. “You want to go all the way home?”
His low laugh sends shivers up and down my bare arms. “My bed upstairs, love. I have a private room.”
It’s funny how I’ve waited this long, but the thought of waiting even another five minutes to get upstairs seems unbearable.
Philip seems to be in as much of a hurry as I am, and he curses when someone stops us as soon as we reach the lounge.
Not just someone—the woman standing in front of us might just be the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s tall and statuesque, her long black hair slicked back away from her face, her dark, heavy makeup impeccably applied. She towers over me in terrifying-looking stilettos, her black leather mini dress screaming sex. When she looks at me, her cherry red lips twist into a smile I can only describe as predatory.
“Jane,” Philip says, his tone more warning than greeting. “Nice to see you.”
“You too,” she says, never taking her eyes off me. Something about the way she’s looking at me sets a throb of nerves pulsing in my belly. She looks like she’d like nothing more than to eat me for breakfast. “And so nice tofinallymeet your friend.”
“What do you need?” he snaps.
She drags her eyes away from me, and her face relaxes into a more neutral expression. “We need to talk,” she says simply.
I expect Philip to blow her off—he’d seemed ready to stampede over anyone in our way just a few seconds ago. To my surprise, he merely nods then turns to me. “I have some business with Jane,” he says, kissing my forehead. “It will only take a moment. Why don’t you go freshen up?”
I feel a sting below my surprise. He not only is going to pause right before our big moment to talk business—he also, apparently, doesn’t want me nearby to hear him.
“Um, okay,” I mumble, trying to take comfort from the way he squeezes my arms and his whispered, “good girl.”
“Why don’t you visit the submissive’s dressing room,” Jane suggests. She snaps her fingers and a woman scurries to her side. This girl is also in black leather but she couldn’t be more different from the statuesque, terrifying woman who summoned her. She doesn’t possess any of Jane’s dominating confidence. Her eyes are downcast, her posture shy.
“Show Lilah to the dressing room,” Jane commands, and suddenly I understand. Jane is a Domme and the woman at her side is her submissive. No wonder I detected so much dominance from her when she looked at me.
“Go ahead,” Philip directs when I hesitate.I guess I don’t have much choice,I think sourly, shooting Philip one last questioning glance—which goes unanswered—before I follow Jane’s sub from the lounge.
It’s only as I’m walking away that I realize Jane had called me by my first name, though Philip had most definitelynotintroduced us. I glance over my shoulder, a stab of jealousy rising in my chest as I see Philip leading Jane to a nearby booth, his hand on her lower back.
I expected the submissive’s dressing room to be sterile and cold, like changing rooms at a department store. Or like the storage room where the girls got dressed before the auction at Rendezvous. But this is nothing like that. The space is sumptuous and elegant, with plush white carpets and elaborately patterned wallpaper. Velvet chaises and tufted benches dot the room. One whole wall is lined with vanities, all of which look to be stocked with endless supplies of makeup and hair products.
“Showers and the steam room are through there,” the quiet woman tells me, pointing to a wide doorway through which I can catch glimpses of white marble. “And the club’s wardrobe is over there if your master would like you to change.”
Your master.The word gives me a little shiver but I’m not sure if it’s from fear or excitement. Do I want Philip to be my master?
“I think he just wanted to get me out of the way,” I admit, wondering if this girl—clearly an experienced submissive—can give me any information about the way things work around here. Instead, she nods once, returns her eyes to the floor, and drifts over to a lounge chair where she sits without saying a word.
Super chatty, that one,I think, feeling grumpy. I wander over to one of the vanities, blown away by the sheer amount of high-end products. This is like having your pick of anything from Sephora. The idea that I might get to use this room someday as Philip’s submissive lightens my mood slightly.
