❛𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄...❜ | 𝐍𝐨.𝟑

Chapter 4- A Night Of Pleasure Awaits...

Lauren's POV:
I hold open the door for Emma as we enter the double doors do The Dining Room Rock, one of the best restaurants Cornwall has to offer. I wouldn't have settled for anything less for my beautiful future wife. An esteemed smile appears on her winesome face as she realises where we are, "Wow...this place is gorgeous. I think my dad does a lot of his work deals here, it's that fancy..."

"Only the best for my fiancée. I've booked us a table by the window, so we can watch the sun set into the oceans horizon, just how you like it." as her impressed smile turns into a demure and shy one, I take it as a 'thank you' from Emma, as it is one often displayed when she's being heavily spoiled by me. If only I could do it more often...

A well-dressed hostess greets us as soon as we enter the esteemed restaurant, a customary smile on her face, "Hello there, good evening. Do you have a table booked?" I slowly begin to notice as we have the platonic conversation with the restaurant worker, she's eyeing Emma in a way I don't like, at all. Snaking my arm around her waist and pulling her closer to me doesn't seem to do anything to stop her dubious actions, but a sudden, vast change in the range of intensity in my eyes does, my black pupils pointing toward her menacingly.

Look at her like that one more fucking time...go on, I dare you...

"Ahem, r-right this way, Miss Thorne..." we're promptly led to our table, stationed beside a window exactly how I requested it, the view of Cornwall's magnificent ocean waves gently lapping against each other as the day is brought to an end a more than emotionally thrilling sight to behold. Being the gentlewoman I am, I courtly pull out Emma's dining chair for her, which she eagerly takes after smoothing her gown over her backside and placing herself into it. After taking my own seat, I splay out a menu for her to feast her eyes on, our romantically inviting evening beginning its line of trail.

As we begin picking what meal we each want, I can't help but let my eyes fixate on the utter beauty held on my fiancées face, as well as her soul which is equally as attractive. The makeup patted on her expression is minimally visible, but still shows all of her natural beauty, just like I want it to. Catching me off guard, she whips her head up, too quickly for me to find the chance to look away, more than likely hoping to make me flustered, but it doesn't. I just keep staring, unbothered by her ocean gleaming eyes darting into my skin. When the view before you is beautiful, why would you look anywhere else?

"Lauren..." even though a single word hasn't been uttered from my pressed lips, she knows within her soul how much I already want her, and I know from the mischievous glint in her eyes, how much she wants me...but not yet. Being a dominatrix is all about patience, and so is marriage. There's one lesson for us both tonight, learning to wait until we get what we want, which for us right now, is to be stark naked and enjoying every curve of each others bodies.

Despite not being anxious one measly bit at Emma catching me lovingly gazing deeply into her tasty, saccharine-flavoured flesh that I want between my strong teeth, the appearance of our waiter does, a shock light within me which I hopelessly try to cover up.

Usually, due to the prospects of my job, I'm much better at concealing my own desires before my subs, but something in Emma's gleeful eyes scream at me to go against any wishes, plans and any morals I have for the future, throwing them out of the window as if nothing else matters.

I have a feeling this night is going to go by very fucking slowly...

❀❀❀

Did I ever mention how shit I am at keeping track of time? I'm almost certain that our meals haven't even been delivered to us yet, and apparently it seems as if it's been hours since we sat down, hours since I knew I'd have to wait a whole lifetime to have Emma all to myself, undisturbed, but I didn't think I meant it in the most literal way possible.