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  “Sage, do I need to ask Louis for some privacy?”

  She searched his face and saw nothing there that said he’d back down or not carry through on the veiled threat to insert either the butt plug, the mini-vibrator, or both.

  “No, Sir.”

  “Good girl,” he said, hugging her and kissing her temple. “What I’d like is for a complete set of measurements to be taken. Then I’d like to see what you have on hand that can be customized as well as some fabrics for some completely custom things. I’m afraid Sage doesn’t have much in the way of lingerie that I care for.”

  “Do you want matching bottoms?” asked Louis solicitously.

  “Only a few, and I’ll let you know which ones.”

  “This way, mademoiselle,” Louis said, indicating a back area. “There is no one here, Roark, so the room adjacent to the back garden is available. I have a few things that should work for her, but I’ll have my assistant bring you samples of the fabrics we have available.”

  “Thank you, Louis. Run along, Sage, and be a good girl.”

  Sage found herself ushered into the back where Louis waited for her to disrobe.

  “Can’t we do this with my clothes on?” she asked.

  “No, the measurements would not be accurate. Roark is a very exacting man and I rather imagine he will not be happy if I have to tell him you were uncooperative.”

  Sage sighed and turned her back so Louis could unzip the dress. She slipped it off her shoulders and let it pool on the floor at her feet. Louis leaned down to help her out of her shoes and stockings so that she was completely naked.

  “You must have angered your Daddy something fierce to have earned a welting such as that. I should be able to make this fairly painless for you.”

  “Thank you. I suppose I did.”

  “Arms up,” he said as he brought out a lovely hand-embroidered corset that he quickly had her laced into. “This one does come with a matching thong, but I’m sure it will fit. Let’s go show this one to Roark.”

  He led her to a comfortable salon-like area that opened off an impressive formal garden. Roark looked up from the fabric samples and smiled. It wasn’t the indulgent, loving smile, of her Daddy. It was far more predatory and feral than that and jump-started her arousal.

  She suddenly wanted him to be very proud of her and wanted to acknowledge her submission in a way that both he and Louis would understand. She crossed the distance between them and sank gracefully to her knees—thighs spread wide, hands palms up, and her head bowed. She’d never knelt for any man. While she acknowledged that she had a deep need to be submissive during sex, she’d never truly submitted to anyone… until now.

  Sage saw the toes of his loafers come into sight as his fingertips stroked her head.

  “Is she not the more beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, Louis?”

  “She is indeed. The gift of a woman’s submission is a thing to be cherished. That she chooses to show you that submission in front of someone else is rare.”

  “My Sage is like no other. I am humbled and proud to be her Dom and Daddy.”

  “As you should be,” said Louis.

  Sage glanced up at him and took the hand he extended to her to help her up.

  “Have you ever knelt for anyone?” he asked softly.

  “Never. Not even when playing at a club. I…” she faltered. She knew what she felt for Roark, but he’d never said the L word to her… never even mentioned it.

  He smiled benignly. “I love you, too, little one. I have loved you long before that fateful night by the bridge, and I should have told you long before now. I apologize. Will you forgive me?”

  Sage threw her arms around him. “Always,” she whispered, drawing his head down to hers.

  His kiss was long and sensual, his tongue playing across the seam of her mouth as it opened to his and it surged in—tasting, savoring, gently dominating. One of his hands twisted in her hair, tilting her head back, lighting up her scalp and firing all of the neurons in her system. The other hand stroked down her back and deftly traced one of her welts before gently cupping her ass. Oh lord, she was going to have to get out of this corset with stiffened nipples.

  As if reading her mind, he whispered in her ear. “It won’t just be your nipples, little one, he’ll be able to see and smell your arousal.”

  Roark trailed his finger from the underside of her ass around to the front of her mons before slipping it between her legs to tickle her clit before giving it a wicked pinch.

  “Ouch! What was that for?”

  “For not responding appropriately.”

  “I’m so sorry, Daddy. I love you, too. Forgive me?”

  “Always, little one.”

  They turned when they heard a discrete snuffle from behind them.

  “I’m sorry. It always touches my romantic soul to see a couple so in love with one another.”

  The rest of the fitting was enjoyable as Sage realized that Louis had most likely seen many women in various stages of having been punished and aroused by their partners. Louis had two more corsets that he could customize to Sage’s figure, and then Roark ordered three more.

  Sage started to protest when she saw the size of the bill, but that protest was cut off with a sharp swat to her backside.

  “Don’t you remember you wrote me as fabulously wealthy? And I know how much money you have.”

  Sage grinned. “We have. I want us to share everything.”

  Roark had paid the town car and driver to wait. He helped her into the car, drawing the curtain between the front and back sections as he climbed in. He sat next to her and she realized she hadn’t been the only one who was aroused by their trip to Dark Garden.

  His eyes never leaving hers, he reached down and unbuckled his belt before unbuttoning his fly and reaching in to pull his cock out. It stood up, completely engorged and jutting straight out from his body. He tugged her off the back seat and Sage started to sink to her knees again so she could suck his cock. Linking his hands with hers, he stopped her and pushed up the sides of her dress.

  “It’s not your mouth I want, little one.”

  He gave her a gentle tug, directing her legs to either side of his body, then slowly lowered her onto his cock. Her pussy was more than ready to receive his large, hard cock. It slipped in easily, filling her and making her moan just from the act of penetrating her. He directed her hands to his shoulders and then spanned her waist with his own.

  “Roark,” she groaned.

  “Good girl. God, you feel good.” His voice had taken on the dark, rich notes she identified as those that accompanied only his deepest arousal.

  Gravity was her friend as she lowered herself completely, seating his cock deep inside her. She moaned, her head falling backwards as a mini orgasm washed over her, her sheath contracting all along his length. When her pussy relaxed, he surged up with his hips and she cried out.

  He began thrusting in and out of her, holding her in place. Even now, when she was, for all intents and purposes, on top, he was still in control. He began to fuck her with a rhythm that was strong and sure. She writhed on top of him, trying to take him deeper and allowing her lust to soar.

  Roark allowed her a little movement and they easily found their rhythm as she balanced on his shoulders and he began hammering her pussy. Her second orgasm sparked and spread like wildfire, coursing through her system and leaving her breathless. He took two more strokes before he grasped her hips, grinding her down on his groin as he began spilling himself into her.

  When he’d finished, he cupped the nape of her neck and brought her mouth to his as he kissed her deeply. He helped her of his lap and tucked himself back into his jeans before straightening her dress. They had barely finished before they returned to the Savoy.

  Roark waited until they were in the elevator before swinging her up in his arms and carrying her to their room. He opened the door and took her into the room.

  “You go get naked, Pet.” He glanced at his watc
h. “Dinner should be delivered in just a few minutes.”

  “I suppose I’m going to be naked for dinner and you aren’t?”

  Roark kissed her. “Such a smart girl. You have an excellent grasp of the situation.”

  She heard the discrete knock as room service delivered and set up their meal. When she heard them leave, she left the privacy of the bath.

  “Any chance I could have a robe or one of your shirts?”

  “None at all,” he answered.

  “Why is there only one chair?” she asked.

  “Because you’re going to sit in my lap and feed me.”

  She grinned. She hadn’t written Roark to be this sensual and romantic, but she was glad that he had enhanced and expanded upon all of her fantasies—both those she’d written and those she’d only imagined. Sage made herself comfortable and lifted the cloche off the dish closest to her as she began to feed him with her fingers. He’d ensured that they didn’t need utensils, but that there were sauces for him to lick and suck from her fingers.

  Sage should have been embarrassed as her nectar began to leak onto his jeans, but she wasn’t. She’d come to thoroughly enjoy the feelings of arousal and how sexy he made her feel with little effort on his part. When she reached for the final cover that concealed dessert, he lightly swatted her hand and shook his head. Sage put her hands back in her lap and leaned into his body, resting her head on his shoulder.

  Roark reached around her and pulled the lid off the last covered dish. It wasn’t the gorgeous confection that was revealed that made her gasp, it was what sat in the middle of it—a ring with a large center stone brilliant in cut, carat, and color. She grinned like a Cheshire cat. She had described this ring in perfect detail as having once belonged to his mother.

  Roark didn’t say a word, just slipped it on her ring finger and then began to feed her the decadent dessert. When they were finished, he stood up and carried her to their bed, laying her gently and reverently on her back.

  Following her down, he said, “I plan to spend the rest of my life making good on the promise of that.”

  Sage was never sure if that was a threat or a promise and found she didn’t care. When she woke the next morning still wrapped in his arms, she was filled with a joy that could only be favorably compared to a child waking up on Christmas morning, waiting to go downstairs to open presents, anticipating the bright future that lay before her. Stretching, she noticed the dazzling sparkle on her left hand.

  “I’d better be long dead, buried, and turned into worm food before you take it off,” he rumbled at her, nuzzling her neck. “Understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she purred, snuggling against him, thinking how very nice it was to have found her very own happy ending.

  THE END

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