Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,105

I guess.

My heart hurts so badly for her upon hearing her confession.

Catlvr89: I’m so sorry.

Katty93: It’s fine.

Catlvr89: It’s not fine. I didn’t mean to bring up what happened.

I wait nervously for her response. I want to gauge just how affected she still is. What she went through is something that stays with a person for life. But what she makes of that life is her decision to make. I’m shocked she considers that a relationship. Or even thought of calling it that.

Catlvr89: So now you aren’t interested in a relationship?

Katty93: I want one, it’s just ...I tried other things. Normal relationships. It just didn’t work.

My lungs still. We’re so alike, yet so different.

Catlvr89: I’m the same way. I don’t want normal.

Katty93: What do you want?

I debate on answering her. But I don’t want to prime her responses.

Catlvr89: You first?

Katty93: LOL

Katty93: I’m weird I think.

Catlvr89: It’s okay. I’m weird too. We can be weird together.

My blood heats, and my dick stirs at her answer and the playfulness of the conversation. I feel as though I’m luring the kitten, my kitten, out to play.

Katty93: I think I like to be dominated.

Catlvr89: What’s weird about that?

Katty93: Like really dominated.

Catlvr89: Does it have something to do with what you went through?

I know it does, but I want to ask. The paperwork and her history, the fucking shrink report I looked up--all of that were other people’s opinions. I want to know what she thinks.

Katty93: It does kind of. In that he was my master.

Katty93: And now I want another.

I suck in a sharp breath and force my dick to calm the fuck down. Seeing her confess only solidifies what I want from her. I need to see her. I need to evaluate our chemistry.

Catlvr89: So you want a master? What do you want from him?

Katty93: It’s fucked up.

Catlvr89: I like fucked up. I want fucked up too.

Katty93: I want him to own me. I want to be a true slave to him, but I need my life too. I’ve been reading these stories. They seem too good to be true. A normal life, but with a M/s relationship. Maybe that’s why I want it. Idk. But there’s a club I’ve been looking into and I’m thinking about going. Just to check it out.

Catlvr89: Why not just do D/s?

Katty93: I don’t want a Dom. I want a Master. There’s a difference and I know what I want. I want him to rule over me. But to do it justly. The way it’s fantasized about. Where I’m cherished and safe and protected and his everything and he’s mine too. I want it to be real.

I close my eyes and force my groan back. It’s like she’s teasing me. Taunting me by saying all the right words. I start to type a response, something about measuring her desires, asking her what she specifically wants. But all of this will be for nothing if the chemistry between us isn’t there, or if she’s simply not ready. I delete the words and the “…” signifying that I’m typing disappears.

Katty93: I realize that I don’t know your history and I really hope you aren’t offended. It wasn’t my intention.

A huff of a laugh leaves me as I sip the whiskey, feeling the warmth flowing through me. She hasn’t offended me in the least, merely given me every indication I was looking for to pursue her. I could push. I could chase. But I need to handle her delicately. She’s like a kitten in a sense. My kitten. Sharp claws, and born into this world ready to claw her way to where she needs to go. But curious. I can rely on that curiosity.

If she wants me, if she truly wants this, she’ll make the initiative.

I’m not a patient man, but good things come to those who wait.

Or so they say.

I down the last bit of whiskey in my glass, the ice clinking and the harsh burn down my throat spreading through my chest. Finally, I respond. Just one little push.

Catlvr89: You won’t know if you don’t go, Katty93

Chapter 6

Katia

The sound of soft, elegant music envelops me as I step into Club X, my heels softly thudding against the plush, rich carpet. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim, ambient lighting as the bouncer that ushered me in gestures to the center of the foyer before leaving to walk back to his post. My eyes are drawn over to where he pointed and I inhale a