My name is Mark Matthews. I own half of London, and the part I don’t own, I’m working on.
Life was all going swimmingly well until Michael Redcliff entered my life, demanding that I marry his daughter. Actually, swap demand for blackmail. He’s got goods on me that I want no one else to see, so for the time being I need to be his little lapdog.
I’ll marry his daughter. I’ll give him all the status, money and power he can handle… for as long as it takes me to get a divorce. You see, I can’t renege on our little arrangement – but she can. I give her a week. One week and she’ll be screaming the place down for her legal counsel.
I am never wrong.
When I got to her room, I put my ear to the door, and sure enough, the sounds of gentle snores could be heard. That was all the encouragement I needed. Barging in, making as much noise as possible, I flung the garment at her. Yelling, “Wakey, wakey,” I waited for patiently for her reaction.
Less than a second later a projectile missile, looking a lot like a large, silver-backed hairbrush, was aimed at my head. Watching it spin in mid-air, I just managed to duck out of view, as it whistled past my eardrums. Memo to me, be a little bit more careful with the bedroom props in future. On the plus side, the woman deserved a spanking for her antics, but she was going to get one in a moment anyway, so I could wait.
“Good morning to you, too” I said pleasantly. “Sleep well?” Both her hands, still tied to the corners of the bed, frantically searched for other items to throw at me, but thankfully I had made no further mistakes.
“I hate you,” she growled, and her eyes glowed with fire. I almost took a step back, but stopped myself just in time. Now I’ve heard talk that women are most beautiful when they’re angry, but I’d never seen any evidence of it up until this moment. Jennifer Redcliff wore a crazed, savage look upon her face, and with her hair sprouting up in all directions and her lipstick smeared, she looked positively wild. Never have I wanted to fuck a woman more. Concentrate, I berated myself.
“Not generally an early riser, darling? We really must work on that nasty temper of yours. It has no place in my household.” I walked over to her right leg and began slowly untying the ribbon. Unless I wanted to lose an eye, it would be foolish to rush the procedure. Stroking the ribbon that had held her fast all night, I searched for the ends of the knot. Unable to resist stroking the soft flesh of her calves, I watched her shudder in revulsion. My lips thinned. She’d need to work on that.
“I caution you to remember last night’s terms, if you will. You gave me your solemn promise that you would obey me. If those terms have changed, I have a sheaf of divorce papers waiting patiently to be signed downstairs. They’re in the dining room, which is on the first floor, opposite the staircase. Feel free to make your way there now.”
“I haven’t changed my mind.”
“Then I suggest you get dressed in your new uniform and begin cooking my breakfast. I’ll expect it on the table at seven o’ clock sharp.” Making quick work of the remaining knots, I left her making fish-like movements with her mouth as I quickly exited the room. I didn’t think it would be prudent to give her time to look for any more ammunition.