Andie was only nineteen, despite her hard life. She was still young, she knew this. She knew that aside from her fucked up headspace, aside from her terrible past, she’d still cling to him. He was the father figure she’d never had, while at the same time the man that could show her things under the sheets that went far beyond her maturity. It was a had temptation to maneuver around. She wanted the power Sebastian had. She wanted his touch. She wanted him. She just didn’t know what the cost would be and that was what scared her the most. In the end she’d likely lose everything and get herself killed, yet it still seemed worth it. She wanted the bad, the ugly and everything in between.
She swallowed fighting the urge to pull his body close as he ran his fingers through his hair, worried she’d lost her opportunity. "Then leave." He said simply. Like he didn’t care whether she stayed or left. That honestly hurt a little and pulled her insecurities to the surface, forcing her to push them back down. She was terrible at rejection any kind and his words had been as good as that, even though she’d been the one to push him away.
She stayed where she was as she watched him move back across the room to the liquor cabinet. He opened it up, pulling a silver box from with the cabinet and her skin crawled instantly. She knew what boxes like that were for and she was hopelessly addicted to the drug she was sure was in that box. It didn’t help that she knew he’d have the best of the best, because he wouldn’t settle for less. He had her. There was no way she’d leave, she was weak to those little white lines.
"Or you can stay..." he breathed and she bit the corner of her lower lip. She was trying to find any excuse to leave, but she knew her addiction wouldn’t let her. This would be the beginning of the end of a relationship with Sebastian Ramsey, one that was sure to be as passionate as it was volatile.
She watched him from across the room as he cut lines of coke. She let out a sigh as she started towards him. There was no use in denying Sebastian. If she was being honest with herself, she had fantasized about him a number of times while she’d been locked away. In a matter of seconds as if someone had flipped a switch in her, she’d accepted that she was about to become horribly dependent on the man that stood before her, feeding her drug habit. It excited her and she could already feel herself getting turned on and he hadn’t touched her yet. Her body ached for him to kiss her again and she hated that she’d have to play it cool, to keep from looking utterly desperate for him.
When she stopped in front of him, she grabbed his arm gently turning him to face her. Andie grabbed his tie wrapping it around her hand and using her grip on his to pull his lips back to hers. This time she kissed him deeply, slowly, and intently. She kissed him like they were the only two people in the world, like he was the only thing she wanted and needed. It was a kiss that damned most of her clients and kept them coming back, it was the very kiss that had hooked Leona and Arty. Kissing him was all consuming, while she faked the damning kiss with nearly everyone aside from Leona, she couldn’t even pretend to fake it with Sebastian. When she was kissing him it was all consuming, incomparable to anyone else she’d ever fucked, despite it being simply a kiss.
She pulled away, untangling her hand from his tie and dropping it back to her side. She let her fur coat slide off her shoulders, down her arms, and onto the floor. “If you’re going to fuck up my life, make it count.” She breathed, letting him know she was fully away that they’d fall apart it was just a matter of when, but that she was okay with it. “I don’t go down easy.” She warned. She moved her long blue hair to one side, turned to face the lines of coke, lend in and did a couple of them like she’d been doing it her whole life.
If he could get Leona to agree to leave her life of prostitution and only be his, he’d be inclined to keep her around for longer then he usually kept girls around. He wanted to see how far he could push someone who’d already been pushed to their lips like Leon had. Orson had a fetish with picking brains and seeing how much he could get away with. He didn’t think it would be so easy though, Leona was used to one way of life, he wasn’t so sure she’d be keen on the idea of simply getting to be his pet. He got to do what he wanted, while she could only do what he approved. Which was why he was careful to keep himself from getting too involve with her. It was one of the main reasons why he avoided her lips.
He watched her smirk as she got up, downing her tequila and he knew in that moment he should make her leave. He was already far past that point. He’d already locked her in the room and now she had no choice but to stay until he let her out and if he was being honest, he wasn’t planning on letting her out anytime soon. He was like a cat, who’d trapped a mouse. The heat between them became intense once more as she moved close to him, her body almost leaning into his. He had to fight the urge not to pull he closer as he simply took another drink from his glace as if she wasn’t leaning up on her toes. He downed the rest of his drink then, before setting the glass aside.
"Your cock." She whispered making it pointedly clear what she wanted, causing his body to tense instantly, his jaw clenching. Their was a hungry urgency to her voice that made it nearly impossible not to bend her over his desk and make her his. She slid her hand between his legs with a smirk, rubbing his and he couldn’t help himself from letting out a low groan. Her touch was pure heroine. "I've never fucked someone so rich and powerful, I'm curious. I left the last line blank because I wanted a reason to see you again." she breathed, voice quite not bothering to hide her motives. He was relieved when she dropped to her knees, a second longer he’d have given in to his dark urges and more then than taken advantage of her body.
She looked up at him and his intense eyes moved to meet hers. She was making it clear that she was handing him the control and that was all she had to do to hook him. Had she started off submitting to him, he’d probably have already fucked her more then once. He grabbed the half smoked cigarette in the ashtray on his desk relighting it as he took a long drag, his eyes still on her as she spoke.
"I can take whatever you've got to give." she breathed and he scoffed lightly, doubting that. He took another drag off her cigarette continuing to listen. "Your princess, your lover, your slave. Just tell me the rules, I'll be whatever you want." she whispered, her tone of voice driving him wild, but he held himself together by a single unraveling thread. He let silence fall between them for a long moment as he smoked his cigarette, not bothering to offer her one or his own, almost as if testing her ability to withhold from something he knew she liked. When he finished the cigarette, he stomped it out in the crystal ashtray, blowing out a final breath of smoke. He turned his eyes back to her crossing his arms in front of him.
“As much as I’d love for you to be all of those things. I’m not sure you’re as willing as you believe you are.” he breathed like he knew something about her, that she didn’t know about herself. “My rules would be far to restricting for your liking.” He breathed honestly. “I don’t play well with others. You’d have to give up your dirty little day job.” He stated firstly. “That means your pimp Arthur and your little girl crush too.” He said and this was just the begin, he wasn’t entirely sure she’d go for that. “And, the sex isn’t fun for me, unless you bleed.” He added darkly, his tone dead serious. “We’d have a contract, because I have to cover my ass.” He mused, more as though he was reminding himself.