Daniel couldn't stop thinking about Angel. He wanted her so badly his cock ached. He wanted to taste her silk lips and hear her moans.
Sunday was recovering. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, he tried to pretend he didn't care. That he didn't replay every single hot second in his mind every minute of the day. And that it didn't make him so hard, he had to jerk off at least twice a day to release the tension.
Thursday, his phone beeped. Mom, brother, best friend who brought him to Angel's club. That was the list of people he assumed messaged. Next were his dad, cousin, or his high school in ex-girlfriend. Sweet, sinful Angel __ was the bottom of the people he expected.
But there was her name in the terse text.
This is Angel. Sorry I didn't message. Meet at the club tonight at 8:30.
In addition to all his hot rememberings, he read about BDSM. About domination. Submission. Pain and pleasure.
Daniel liked being in charge, in commanding. Pain was new but if Angel liked it. He'd learn.
His hands shook as he replied: Yes, ma'am.
He saved the number and cheered. Someone from the outer office opened the door. "Everything okay, boss?"
"Yep." Better than fucking okay. He was going to own the hottest piece in town tonight.
Nerves were replaced by confidence. Chemistry, they had. Tonight, he had to show her he could control her pleasure.
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