Chapter 22

I love shopping, I realise. But it's much more fun when you're using someone else's money. I hit the department stores and head straight to makeup and skincare. If Alistair really wants me as his little whore, then I'm going to look a million bucks.

I spend an eye watering amount at Sisley, then clean up at the Benefit counter. Pennies in Alistair's eyes. I hit The Royal Exchange and circle past Hermes several times before I have the guts to walk in.

I always knew Hermes was expensive but I never knew a bag could cost fifty thousand dollars. No matter what Alistair said, there's no way I can spend that much money on a handbag. And he already bought me three others today. I buy the Funny Ice cream silk scarf for three hundred quid and make a swift exit.It's elegant and a little fancy. I can't help but smile.

I know Alistair probably has it all, but I can't help walking into Omega when I see a beautiful black and rose gold watch that would suit him to a tee. I almost fall over when they tell me it's almost two hundred thousand dollars. Embarrassed, I settle on a pair of cufflinks, and even those are over a thousand pounds.

I can't wait to get over to Oxford Street next. Texting my friends on our group chat on the way, I know I have to tell them soon about Alistair. I decide to only tell a little half-truth, which doesn't sit well with me, but I'm afraid of what they'll say when they find out who he is. Or they'll most likely try and talk me out of it, pointing out all the red flags and why this is a bad idea.

Me

How are my two favourite lovebirds and their hot husbands/boyfriends?

I smile to myself. I miss my friends.

Well, I've finally met a guy. I'll tell you about him when we can get on FaceTime. Just know things are good and I'm out shopping on Oxford street. He may have given me his credit card to use. What's a girl to do? Love you x

I know they'll have questions, but at least saying something is better than saying nothing at all. I'm sure Alistair will let me know, sooner rather than later, that I'm not to divulge our relationship with anyone. Hence the NDA.

I'm swamped with all the stores on Oxford street that make a poor girl happy; Primark. Tommy Hilfiger. Nike. Calvin Klein. Harrods. Lacoste. Gucci. Cartier. Urban Outfitters. Gap. River Island. Selfridges. The list goes on and on. I'm in seventh heaven.

The driver tells me to call him when I need the bags picked up. I go straight to Gap and Nike and buy some new sweats and hoodies plus a nice pair of runners. Alistair can have me in silk and satin, but when I'm on my own time, I'll be in my sweatpants.

I pass La Perla and remember Alistair's words about finding something sexy to wear to bed. It's ridiculously expensive and I try not to look at the tags. I don't want him to be disappointed if I come home with nothing. My usual cotton Marks and Spencer or Primark panties aren't gonna cut the mustard with him around.

I settle on a blush pink matching set, black, white — since apparently he can see my boobs through my blouse — and several negligees and a short and cami set. The fabric is like butter, with intricate and pretty lace detail. I can't say I'd ever spend that amount of money on panties and bras even if I had it, but since he's paying, I treat myself.

I spent almost three thousand pounds.

I mean, he said no limit, but I'm sure I'll anger him by spending all of that on underwear but a thrill goes through me when I think about his form of punishment.

I stop and have sushi for lunch and meet up with the driver so he can store my bags.

I send a message to Alistair while I eat.

Me

Just letting you know I'm shopping up a storm and I have a present for you. That's if you've been a good boy???

I smile to myself, hoping he'll see the funny side. I wait a few minutes, but no reply comes and he hasn't read the message. No doubt he's stuck in back-to-back meetings. My cheeks flush when I think about what I did this morning and how much power I felt taking him like that. He was at my mercy, and something about that tingles deep inside me.

When I check the time after wandering around Neman Marcus, it's almost four o'clock. This shopping nonsense really does take it out of you. I grab a couple pairs of shoes and when I see a sparkly pair of flats by Miu Miu, I know I'm going to end up with a red ass after I spend almost five hundred pounds on them. I smile to myself, wondering how angry he'll be.

Pleased with my day of shopping, we head to my place so I can grab a few more of my things. I'll admit, I don't have much and what I do have I love; such as my worn in Nike sneakers and favourite Primark tracksuit. There's something about your own stuff that is positively soothing. I also grab my trusty pillow and throw. I love having my own blanket to snuggle in. I forgot my kindle in my rush the other day, so I swipe that too and a bunch of chargers. I quickly text Chelsea to let her know I'll be out for a few days on a business trip — not that she'd care, but it's courteous, I suppose.

By the time I grab all of that, it's almost five.

My heart races when I think about Alistair and if he really will be angry that I'm not home when he told me to be. Home. I snort at the idea. He said it more than once, and both times it made the butterflies in my stomach jitter.

As if reading my mind, a text comes through from the man himself. He still didn't reply to the text I sent while I ate my lunch.

Mr. D

Princess, I've been thinking about you all day and what we did. I can't wait to get home. I hope you did me proud today.

My heart thumps in my chest when I read his words. So sometimes I do get playful Mr. Devereaux. He doesn"t show his face very often, but when he does, it's like Hallelujah.

I smile as I quickly text him back.

Me

I think you'll be quietly impressed with my purchases

Mr. D

What about underwear?

Me

I hit La Perla pretty hard — we're on a first name basis

Mr. D

I'm hard thinking about you in La Perla

Me

You've ruined me for all other underwear

A few minutes goes by, then:

Mr. D

I just checked my credit card

Me

Yeah?

Mr. D

We need to talk

Oh, shit. I did spend too much. I mean, he said there was no limit.

I silently start to have a mini-heart attack.

Think, Charlize. Talk your way out of it.

Me

I'm sorry. I can take some of the stuff back?

Mr. D

That's not what I meant

Me

You're confusing.

My heart races as I type.

Did I do something wrong?

Mr. D

Yes. We'll talk about it when I get home. Be wearing the La Perla at the kitchen island and nothing else when I get in.

Holy smokes.

I can't stop the heat rising in my cheeks that I've done a very, very bad thing, and now I can't wait to get home and pretty myself up for him, hoping that it'll soften the blow.

I can't imagine what would've happened if I'd bought a Hermes bag instead of the scarf. Shame washes over me. I suck at this.

What was the point in giving me a card with no limit if you're just going to rain on all my fun and make me feel like shit? By the time the car pulls into his driveway, I'm fuming. I contemplate whether to make the car turn around and go back to my place.

I want to confront him. I want to know what the hell he's smoking if he thinks he can just punish me for a mediocre spending spree. Okay, I did spend a lot — at his insistence — but it's not like I went and bought a three hundred thousand dollar watch or a new car for Christ sakes.

Alex helps me with the bags into the entryway and I thank him as he leaves.

I haul the stuff up to my room, making two trips with overstuffed arms full of bags and boxes. Okay, maybe I did go overboard. But now I have to win him back into my good graces.

I decide to draw a long, hot bath with the Chanel bath oil I've been wanting for a hundred years. I pour some under the tap guiltily and pull out the blush set of La Perla that has see-through cups and a scantily G-string. I'm pretty sure he's going to like it. It's high cut and makes my butt look really good.

I soak for a while, tying my hair up as I close my eyes and play an audio book… anything to get my mind off Alistair being mad at the things I bought. I feel so guilty that I didn't even take any of them out. All except the cufflinks I bought for him. He"ll probably make me return them; I would too. They were ridiculously expensive.

When my fingers start to prune, I hop out of the bath and wrap myself in one of the huge fluffy towels and dry myself. I apply the matching Chanel body lotion, hoping he'll enjoy the scent on my skin. I spray a small amount of the perfume at my wrists and my neck and pull on the La Perla undies. They fit like a glove. The material is so luxurious and beautiful. I've never worn anything this exquisite, and now I get it. Pulling my tits into the cups I admire myself in the full length mirror, hoping Alistair likes what he sees too. I pull out the darker pink silk kimono and pull that on along with the fluffy slippers I brought from home.

I fluff my hair, apply some more makeup and lip-gloss and hope to God I can pull off sexy.

I take my kindle and head downstairs to make a cup of tea while I wait. It's almost seven-thirty, and I know he said eight o'clock, but I hoped he'd be back earlier. I need to get this over with and the sooner the better.

I make a soothing Earl grey with vanilla and take the mug to the kitchen island and hunt through my kindle library. I'm barely into the first few pages of my book when I hear movement at the door followed by jangling keys.

I glance up from my kindle and straighten my back.

Show time.

He appears in the door, looking just as sexy as when I left him this morning. He has a long, smart coat on and his briefcase in hand. He sees me and stops. His eyes trail from my face down my body. He's unsmiling and my heartbeat accelerates rapidly as I try and judge his mood. Not good, it seems. Not good at all.

"Alistair—" I begin, but he holds up a hand.

He drops his briefcase by the door and removes his scarf and coat, tossing them over the back of the couch as he moves toward me.

I've never seen anything so sexy, and even if I am about to be reprimanded for what I did today, I can't find myself bothering to care. I'm mesmerised by his face. His jawline firm and tense. His eyes darker than ever as he assesses me in his neat kitchen. Of course, Dom left a fridge and freezer full of food but it looks like nobody was ever here. God bless that man.

"You're mad with me?" I whisper, running my fingers up his silk tie.

He watches the movement, his eyes guarded. "Yes."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disappoint you."

"Well you did. When I said you had unlimited access, I meant unlimited access, Princess."

Huh?

My eyes search his. "In English, please Alistair."

He cups one side of my face. "I'm mad because you hardly made a dent. That's not a shopping spree, Charlize, it's not even an appetiser."

My mouth gapes. "You're mad… because I didn't spend enough?"

"I'm not mad. I just think you may need a hand finding things. Especially in La Perla." He leans toward my ear as my breathing accelerates. "Maybe I could fuck you in the change room, but you'd have to be quiet."

A groan leaves my mouth as I tug him closer. My pussy is soaked just hearing his words. This man has no boundaries when it comes to how he makes me feel. He has no clue what he does to me and how much his words affect me.

I'm glad I'm not in trouble, but a part of me was looking forward to being spanked again.

When I don't reply he nips my ear. "Would my princess like that?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Daddy."

I reach up and press my lips to his and his mouth opens in response. His tongue finds mine and my nipples pebble when we fall into a rhythm that, quite frankly, takes my breath away. I spread my legs so he can move between them. He cups my face, pushing my hair back as he deepens the kiss. My hands clutch his forearms and I love how strong they feel. I can't wait to have this man inside me again.

This time, I may not even have to beg.