It’s cute how her cheeks remain pink after the naughty act she did before dinner. All through our meal, I kept quiet, forcing her to think about what she’d done. I’d been hard as fuck watching her

try to deep throat the bread and slobbering all over herself in the process. She apparently gives head better than she cleans.

Hans outdid himself as usual on the meal, and the bananas foster cream pie was fantastic. Once Ash is nice and stuffed, I stand and offer her my hand.

“Let’s have a chat. See how much more you can earn tonight.”

Irritation morphs her pretty features, but she takes my hand. So small and soft. I love the feel of it in mine. Rather than let her go, I guide her into my living room over to the L-shaped pale-gray sofa. She goes to sit, but I shake my head.

“On your knees.”

Her eyes widen, fear glinting in them.

“Not for a blowjob, dirty girl,” I chide. “But because I quite like seeing you obey me.”

I expect her to argue or negotiate, but the dutiful thing listens to my command, dropping to her knees on the soft fuzzy dark-gray rug. She crosses her arms over her chest, scowling at me.

“Give me your phone,” I instruct as I sit down in front of her, stretching my legs out in front of me on either side of her.

“Why?”

“Because I want to photograph you.” I arch a brow. “How many times did you watch our movie from last night?”

“None, you pig,” she snaps, her cheeks burning bright red.

“I jerked off this morning imagining you watching it.” I lean forward, toying with a strand of her silky hair. “Your fingers got so sticky when you touched yourself.”

Her nostrils flare with anger. “Picture is going to cost you. Videos are more.” “Name your price.”

She chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “This is more than a selfie so it should cost more. Two hundred

for each picture. For videos, it’ll depend.”

“What if I want a video of you fulfilling my fantasy? Of you fingering your tight, young, barely-touched cunt?”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “You can’t afford that.”

“Try me,” I say, leaning forward until I’m close to her face. “If I want something badly enough, I’ll pay for it.”

“I thought you said . . .” She trails off and frowns. “The sex stuff was free.”

I chuckle. “You want to play with your pussy for free? Then, by all means, have at it.” “No, asshole,” she grumbles. “That it wasn’t something on the table to negotiate with.” “Sucking my dick and fucking you are free. All the rest has a price.”

“My hands aren’t clean.” She lifts her chin in a regal, bitchy way. “Sorry to disappoint.” “You can use my thigh.”

She parts her pink pillow lips, and her hazel eyes dart back and forth, testing my seriousness. I don’t joke when I’m negotiating.

“In my jeans?” “Take them off.”

She frowns, indecision warring on her face. “How much are we talking here?” “How much do you want?”

“Ten thousand and my jeans stay on,” she mumbles. “And how much to get them off?”

She swallows hard and wrings her hands together. “Twenty?”

“You sound unsure . . .”

“Would you pay twenty for that?”

“Offer it, and I’ll take it or leave it.” I smirk at her, enjoying the flash of anger in her eyes. “Go on. Make me an offer, little girl.”

“Twenty thousand to, um, ride your leg for five minutes without my jeans on. No pictures either. And, you can’t touch me.”

“What if I ask nicely?” I grin at her. “Does that earn me a hand on your tit?” “No touching, freak. That’s the deal.”

“Take your pants off. I accept your deal.”

Panic flashes in her eyes. It’s cute to see the minnow swimming with sharks like she belongs. She rises to her feet, her hand trembling slightly as she unbuttons the top button on her jeans. I keep my stare on her hand as she unzips them slowly. She kicks off her sandals, her bare feet sinking into the plush rug.

“No touching,” she reminds me. “You’ll owe a thousand dollars if you accidentally do it.” “A deal’s a deal.”

This settles her, because she shimmies her jeans down her wide hips. This girl has one of those timeless

hourglass figures the celebrity pinups used to have. Small, trim waist. A flare of her hips. Nice, thick enough thighs that taper down. And her tits are just the perfect size. A handful of reality, something I’m not at all used to coming from a world where money can buy anything, even the perfect body.

She pushes her jeans down and kicks them away. I drink in her perfect figure, settling at the tiny scrap of black satin panties. With awkward, jerky movements, she makes her way toward me. I remain still with my hands on the sofa cushions beside me. She holds onto my shoulder as she straddles my thigh.

“This is going to be difficult,” she complains.

“I’m sure you’ll make it work.” I smile at her. “Just ask if you need any assistance.”

She flips me off, making me laugh, before settling herself on my thigh near my knee. “Time it,” she snaps. “I’m not playing.”

I pull my phone out of my shirt pocket since she never offered hers  and  then  set  the  timer  for  five minutes, sitting it down next to me. She lets out a ragged sigh. Patiently, I wait for her to get started.

“Your pussy isn’t going to rub itself,” I remind her.

She huffs, clutching onto my other shoulder as she clumsily attempts to rub herself against my thigh. “Eyes on me, remember?”

Hazel eyes lock on mine. At first, she’s annoyed and frustrated. But the longer she’s forced to stare at me, the more fluid her movements get. Her breathing quickens, and her hold on my shoulders tightens. Every so often, she accidentally brushes up against my hard dick with her thigh, causing her to flame crimson.

“Feel good, pretty girl?” She shrugs.

“Lie to me then. Tell me how good it feels and how happy you are for the privilege.” “It feels good,” she grumbles. “I’m so happy.”

“Liar.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s weird. Sorry I’m not into it like you are.” “Would you rather me pin you down and dry fuck you on the rug?” “W-What? No,” she rushes out. “This is fine. It feels good.”

“Or,” I rumble, leaning forward to inhale her sweet cherry scent that lingers in her hair. “I could take your panties off and lick your pussy until you scream. That would feel much better.”

A tiny gasp escapes her. This girl likes dirty talk.

“Maybe I should shove my finger in your tight asshole while you ride my big cock. That would feel really good,” I croon. “Teach you what a real dick feels like.”

“Stop,” she pleads.

“I’m only just getting started.” I lean back, searing my gaze into hers. “When we fuck, it’s going to hurt the first time, because I’m going to be desperate to come inside your barely-touched pussy. So much come will run out of you, you’ll be cleaning it up for days. I won’t allow you to wear panties so I can watch it run down your sexy thighs.”

Her eyes flutter closed, and she whimpers. I don’t remind her to open her eyes, but instead let her enjoy the moment.

“One day, I’m going to spread you out on my bed and see how many fingers you’ll let me put inside you. If I lubed up my whole hand, would you let me fist your cunt, little girl? Would you scream because it hurts, or would you beg for all of it?”

Her body trembles, her nails biting into my shoulders. “Winston . . .”

She jerkily rides my thigh, desperate to come, but she needs help. I reach between her thighs and rub on her clit through her panties.

“I owe you a grand,” I murmur and then kiss her neck. “Oops. Two.”

She comes with a shriek of surprise. I delight in the way her body comes undone for me. I don’t remove my finger that lazily teases circles on her clit until she smacks at my hand.

“I said don’t touch,” she snaps, her words breathless.

“And you still owe me another minute.” I lift a brow in challenge. “Keep riding, cowgirl. Time’s not up yet.”

Her expression grows murderous, but she obeys. I know she won’t get off again, at least not without help, and she has a determined look that says she’d rather throw herself out one of my windows than let me assist again. The second the timer goes off, she flies off me and quickly pulls her jeans back on. I rub my palm across the wet spot on my thigh before bringing my hand up to smell her arousal.

“Mmm.” With my eyes glued to hers, I lick my palm. “Good, good girl.” “Where’s your restroom?” she chokes out as she buttons her jeans.

I point to an open door. She scurries off, leaving me with an aching erection. While I wait for her to

return, I send her the money we agreed upon. “Holy shit,” I hear her croak out in the bathroom. And to think, I’m only getting started.

This girl has much to learn, and I’ll enjoy every second of teaching her.

After twenty long minutes in the bathroom, she emerges, her self-confidence back in place. She waltzes over to me and pushes her feet into her shoes.

“I’m leaving now. I did my job.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “We’re done here.”

I rise to my feet and prowl over to her. She’s got balls. Unlike most women, she stands her ground and meets my stare with a fiery one of her own.

“I’m taking you home,” I rumble. “No.”

“Not up for debate.” “I’ll take an Uber.”

My lip curls up in disgust. “Absolutely not.”

“Fine, I’ll walk,” she huffs. “As long as I don’t have to spend another second with you.”

“No,” I growl, gripping her delicate neck. “You will not walk. You’re going to accept the ride, woman.” “I can afford my own ride now.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I’ve just been paid.”

“You’re not spending your college money. Sorry, sweetheart.”

“If I want to, I will,” she barks back at me. “You don’t get to dictate how I spend my money.”

Her attitude is pissing me off. I release her to stride out of the living room to grab my keys from the entryway table. “I’ll negotiate on a lot of shit, Ash, but not this. Let’s go.”

She’s quiet the entire way down to the lobby. Ollie, my doorman, gives me a nod as we pass. Outside, the late spring air is warm and refreshing. The valet, Dave, brings my matte-black Lamborghini Urus to the front door.

I open the passenger door for her. She won’t look at me, clearly pissed at having me take her home. I don’t care. She can either take a ride from my driver or from me. I won’t have her riding in a fucking Uber. It’s insulting. And it’s not safe for her.

Once inside my vehicle, I fly out of the circular drive and onto the street. “Plug your address into my GPS,” I instruct.

She lets out an exaggerated sigh before leaning over to add it in. Once the robotic voice commands me where to go, I cut my eyes over to her. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her phone is sitting between her thighs.

“Anytime you feel like sending a picture, I’ll pay for them. Day or night.” “Seriously,” she grumbles. “You’re too much. I’ve had enough for tonight.” “Pity, because I have so much more to give.”

She’s quiet until we pull up in front of her brownstone. “Until when?” “What do you mean?”

Her brows are furrowed. “Is this just a fun weekend thing for you?” “No.”

“So you plan to throw money at me for gross kinks for the rest of the foreseeable future?” “Unless you have a better plan.”

“Nope,” she snaps. “Just ready for this to be over.”

I study her for a long moment. “I won’t stop until I’ve been inside you.” “And then you’ll be done?” She narrows her eyes at me. “That simple?”

“Nothing is ever simple, Ash. I’ll simply stop pursing you at that point, because then you’ll be mine. You

won’t need to work then.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be yours. Maybe I want to work to earn a living and not be some old rich dude’s plaything.”

“We’ll see,” I say with a grin.

“Yeah, we will.” She flings the door open and storms away.

I’m having the most fun I’ve had in years. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let this one go anytime soon.