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CHAPTER ONE

Tonight Pavillon Français The moment you cross the threshold, you are mine You will not speak unless spoken to You will obey my every command

I read the words over and over again as I stood in front of the doors Neil had converted the building, a recreation of the Pavillon Français at Versailles, with the express purpose of holding all hts hich to torment me And, inside, my Sir waited

My heart pounded The gilt-edged note had arrived via courier that afternoon, written in Sir’s hand I’dit at my desk It had been incredibly difficult to concentrate on photos of jackets while pressing ether all day

And that had been his plan, all along To getabout him, his control over me, and the need I had to submit to his every sexual whim It was a need that would never be satisfied

So, it was a good thing I was married to him

I dragged in a shaky lungful of sharp January air I’d arrived hoe, fluffy curls that floated around h I had no idea what Sir had planned Sole, bound to a steel fraer Others, I’d be bent over a padded bench as a hNo matter how much care I took with my appearance, it would be utterly ruined by the tis of black eyeliner over sloss Beneath th sleeves, I wore dark maroon panties and bra—silky and perfectly cut The panties were already wet from my anticipation

I took a deep breath and pushed open one of the doors The moment you cross the threshold The toe of my black Madden Proto puled My heart raced My h and closed the door behind me

There he was My Sir My husband Neil Elwood

He sat in one of the ornate Louis XVI chairs before the fireplace He wore a white button down and sharkskin gray trousers, perfectly crisp and presentable, despite the depraved things he would do to ilded and darkened his hair, which was more silver now than its for suppleht

He ers and held up a hand to halt h

He hadn’t said a single word, yet, and I was already his