The Baby Bargain

Chapter 32: Harker

"You have the one you wore last night." He'd had vivid, hot dreams of that dress.

"My wedding dress?"

"Yes. It's not a traditional wedding dress with a long train and lace." It was slinky and sexy and perfect. "You don't need to wear the veil." He'd get her a blindfold. That was much better than a veil.

"Where are we going that you want me to wear my wedding dress?" She no longer sounded excited.

"I want you to keep an open mind." He'd lead her away from the uptight, Puritan beliefs of her childhood by appealing to her sense of adventure.

"You're making me nervous."

"Don't be. It's a reputable place. Nice people."

"Harker. Tell me where we're going."

"La Petite Mort Club."

"The sex club?"

Time to sooth her sensibilities and coax her into going. "Yes, but they have a fabulous restaurant, and the people are very nice. Everyone is polite, intelligent, excellent conversationalists and–"

"Do you know how hard it is to get in that place?" She almost vibrated off her chair. "I've wanted to go there for so long."

"You have?" Once again, she did what no one else ever could; she surprised him.

"Yes. I've never been to one. Do the people have sex right in the open? Have you ever seen someone tied up? Spanked? Flogged?" Her eyes got wider with each word.

"Yes. To all of those things."

"Oh...I can't wait."

"Me either." His innocent wife had a kinky streak that he couldn't wait to explore.

"But I'm not wearing my wedding dress."

"Why not?"

"I'll stand out."

"How do you know? You've never been there. Maybe white wedding dresses are normal attire."

"I've never been to Alaska either, but I know people don't walk around in bikinis."

"What does that have..." He stopped himself. He was not starting down that rabbit hole. They'd be arguing for the next few hours about typical attire for every freaking country in the world if he did. "Okay, most people don't wear white dresses at the Club, but I want you to wear it." People should notice her. She was different. Unique. Exceptional and he wanted everyone to see that she belonged to him.

"Too bad."

His jaw clenched. He could not punish her for this. She wasn't his submissive, at least not yet.

"I'll wear my black slacks with—"

"No. You don't have to wear your wedding dress, even though it'd make me happy, but I insist that you wear a dress or skirt." He needed easy access to her pussy.

"Do all the women at the Club wear dresses or skirts?"

"All of my women do." He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. He knew better than to talk about other women in front of the current one.

"Well, I'm not. I honestly don't own any dresses. I never wear them."

"Then buy some." His comment about other women hadn't fazed her. That's right. Why would it? He wasn't a man she wanted to fuck.

"No." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't want to wear a dress or skirt."

"Then we aren't going." He'd teach her to obey. He'd prefer to paddle her lush, round ass but withholding pleasure would work too.

"Seriously? You won't take me there if I don't wear a dress." She sounded as disgusted as he felt.

"Yes." He waited for her to agree to his demands. She was used to this role. He was her boss. His word was final.

"You are such a...Fine. I'll buy a skirt."

"Three unless you want to wear the same one all weekend."

"Okay, but then you need to wear jeans."

"You don't get to tell me what to wear." That wasn't how this worked.

"Then I'm not going." She crossed her arms over her chest, challenging him with a look.

He'd call her bluff if he didn't want to fuck her so badly. Ethan was right. The Club was the perfect place to put her libido into overdrive. "I don't own jeans."

"I guess we can go shopping together."

"You will pay for this."

"Oh, no." She grabbed another pastry puff from the plate. "We're married. This is coming out of your account."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." She grinned. "You'll try to get me back somehow, but you shouldn't have warned me. You know that saying. Forewarned is forearmed."

He nodded. She had noidea the kind of payment disobedience to him required, but he'd teach her andenjoy every torturously pleasurable moment.