Page 2 of Dark Rules

I’d practiced on myself and learned to control the urges I’d felt since I was a teenager, but I’d never known what it was like to have someone give me that kind of sensation. I did now, and I didn’t want anything to take that away from me. Especially my family. I’d given them enough of me already, and they didn’t get to take this away from me too.

I went back into the living room, checked my new phone, and then went to have a bath. I’d have to be ready for Dylan. He’d told me to take tonight, to think it all through, but I didn’t need that time, after all. Not after I’d seen Trent.

I laughed when I remembered the expression on his face when I’d turned to walk away from him earlier. I’d left and come home, even when he’d called after me. He hadn’t expected that.

My family seemed to have forgotten something about me. Something I hadn’t been able to forget since I was born; I hadn’t been allowed to. I was a Thompson. I could be just as arrogant and stubborn as they all were. They walked around so proudly as they silently declared their superior attitudes and inherent right as a Thompson. Well I was now staking claim to that right that belonged to me.

Mainly, I was claiming my right to be left alone, to be left in peace to live my life. If all they wanted was a nanny, then they could go through the process to hire one. I wouldn’t be available anymore.

I sank down into my fabulous tub and let the hot water ease the aches from my sore body away. Dylan and I had only just begun to go down the trail that could see my body much more sore than it was now. That was something I actually looked forward to.

It wasn’t something I’d ever admit to anyone, except Roxie and Dylan, but I wanted subservience on my terms. I’d longed for unimaginable ways, ways that I hadn’t known could be satisfied. But now I knew, and I wasn’t about to let anybody stop me. Even if the man who gave me what I craved the most was some kind of economic enemy of my brothers.

We had enough money, and we had loyal clientele. We had a good name in the hotel industry and with our clients. A little competition might be a good thing for them. Instead of declaring Dylan an enemy, Trent should have left the man alone. Dylan was more than capable, he had his own empire on the west coast to prove that.

Trent should have just bowed out and let Dylan get on with his intentions. He should have focused on our empire, not Dylan’s. In doing that, he’d lost sight of someone long ignored in the family. Until she was needed, for something that someone else should be doing anyway.

I hated how angry I was with my family; it tore at me, but I couldn’t help it. After a lifetime of being the forgotten sister, and then a trusted nanny, I had walked away. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise, but obviously I wasn’t thought of often enough to make them realize I’d been drowning for a long time and had needed help. I’d found it elsewhere.

In the arms of the enemy. That secret knowledge gave me a thrill. It was a way to pay them back. Sleeping with the enemy, but not for purposes of espionage. Oh no, this wasn’t even about revenge. It was about what I’d gain from the experience, how I could get on with my life once this was all done.

No, I was the only one who would win in this little game, even if I was the only one who knew it was being played. I’d go to Dylan, I’d be his, and he’d never even know of the victory he’d been given. But, I would. And that didn’t bother me one bit.

Dylan

I heard my phone chirp and saw that I’d had a text from Stephanie. Exchange of our phone numbers had been part of the contract, so that if I wanted her when the club was closed, I could contact her. She was to be at my beck and call. Literally.

I could call her any time I wanted to, and she’d be on her knees in front of me. The possibilities were endless. I could tell her to take me in her mouth and watch her beautiful face as she sucked me to a mind-blowing end, or I could drive inside of her, hard and fast, until we both got off. Or even better, I thought as I sat back on the couch and let the fantasy play, I could bury my face in that sweet spot of hers and fill my senses with the way she tasted, the way she smelled, and the way she felt.

Or I could have all three.

She’d told me she wanted me to be rougher, more in command, and to use a crop on her. I wondered why she’d chosen the crop instead of a whip or a paddle. She’d specifically used the word crop, though. I guessed she’d done some horse riding and had thought about what could be done with that instrument more than once as she rode around.

Or perhaps it was something she’d seen in a movie or something. I knew next to nothing about her, not really. I didn’t even know her real name, but I wouldn’t push. I didn’t give two fucks who knew what I was doing, not really, so I’d used my real name.

She could be reserved, my beautiful little butterfly. Sometimes she would seem distant, as if she was somewhere else, but not often. Stephanie usually focused directly on me, every move I made, when she was with me. It was only in the quiet times, after we’d finished and I didn’t want to leave her, that she’d go quiet.

I’d never really wanted to break that silence, because she seemed so lost in those moments. I’d wanted to know things about her, though. What her favorite color was, what kind of music she’d liked, what she liked to eat the most; the little things that all seemed to matter, and that kind of worried me.

I kept reminding myself this was an arrangement, a business transaction, and that I couldn’t get involved. That should have alarmed me from the start. I shouldn’t have had to remind myself this wasn’t a real relationship. It wasn’t about long-term plans and honeymoons on the beach, babies in a crib nine months later; this was about sex, dirty, rough, some would even say kinky sex. But sex it was about, and nothing more.

My phone buzzed, and I’d looked down at it. A message from Stephanie. My eyebrow lifted because she wasn’t supposed to contact me until tomorrow. Had she changed her mind, was that why she had called me early? My guts twisted into a knot at that thought, and my hand shook as I reached for it to open the screen.

Her words made those knots a little tighter. Not much of an explanation.

Then she sent me a picture, a shot of her panties and clothes on the floor. Oh, now that looked far more positive. When she sent me a picture of one of her breasts, covered in bubbles except for her nipple, I knew it was a yes.

I smirked, I was doing fuck all, but that wasn’t the role I had in this game. I was the master, and dismissive was the name of the game at the moment.

I liked the submission there, the tone that said she would obey.