Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,232

and the dominant side. Although, he’s been showing the dominant side more these past few days. It seems like he’s controlling everything I do or say now. Just this morning he had clothes laid out for me that he wanted me to wear, along with the oils that he wants me to put in my hair. I love the smell of them actually.

And strangely enough, I want more of this. More of his control.

More of him.

Thinking about him makes me wonder what he’s doing.

Crawling off the bed, I leave my laptop and go search through the house for him.

I look through several of the rooms, including his bedroom, before I find him in his study. He’s sitting at his desk, his head down as he writes in a notebook. It looks worn and I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes as I notice the binding is leather. His brow is furrowed; he’s clearly focused on whatever he’s writing.

I bite my lower lip as I look at him, my heart racing as my hand stills on the door frame. He looks so gorgeous, sitting there in slacks and a white dress shirt opened at the chest. I don’t know if I should disturb him. He did tell me that I have permission to come to him at all times, but he looks busy and I don’t even remember why I came to find him. I almost turn and leave, twisting on my back heel, but he looks up, freezing me in place.

I step fully into the doorway, clasping my hands out in front of me like he taught me to do, and then I wait patiently.

I don’t have to wait long.

“Yes?” he asks, in a low voice, slowly setting the pen down. My heart thump, thump, thumps.

Opening the drawer off to a side, he places the notebook into the drawer and then closes it, his eyes on me the entire time.

A feeling of suspicion washes over me at his actions. What was he writing?

Joseph clears his throat, “Lilly?”

I stare at him for a moment, noticing for the first time that he looks stressed; something’s bothering him.

He’s sitting in his chair, tense as can be, worry lines etched in his forehead. I’ve never seen him like this.

I lick my lips, hesitating to respond. I don’t want to say anything now. I’m not here for anything important anyway. I was just coming to play around and do something to get punished, but it all seems so trivial now.

Joseph’s going through something.

It’s insensitive of me to expect him to stop what he’s doing to indulge me. My fingers twist around one another. A strange sense of loneliness washing through me.

I think back to the Hero that I’m writing about, with his dark hairs and dark eyes, and how much he reminds me of Joseph.

“Flower,” he growls warningly, his deep voice pricking my skin.

Shit. I have to say something now.

“I was hoping I could please you, Sir,” I say softly. The moment the words leave my lips, I regret them. Looking at him, I know that he’s not in the mood for playing.

His pause hurts almost as much as his next words. “Not right now.”

I was expecting it, but it still hurts, a heavy weight settling on my chest. I try to turn away quickly before my face crumples into a frown, intent on running back to my room and closing the door behind me. I don’t make it two steps before he calls me back to him.

“Come here,” he commands me. “Now.”

I bite my lower lip, holding back tears, and turn on my heel and make my way over to his desk beside him. I don’t know why I’m so emotional. But something about this moment is off.

He looks up at me, a sadness in his eyes that tugs at my heartstrings. “Kneel,” he commands.

I obey his command immediately, sinking to my knees beside him. Swallowing, I look up at him, not sure if he’s going to punish me, scold me, or both.

I startle when he reaches out and pets my hair softly. “You’ve been a good girl,” he tells me. “You can put your clothes back on if you’d like.”

My heart drops in my chest. I don’t want to put my clothes back on. I want him to take me. Punish me. Anything.

“Okay,” I say, rising to my feet, my throat closing. I try to hide my displeasure, but I can’t keep the frown off of my face. I wish I could just