Ryan's head snapped to the side, eyes squeezed shut in pure fear and burning shame. His cheeks flamed crimson.
One trembling hand came up halfway, then dropped uselessly onto the sheets. "P-please…" he whispered, voice cracking miserably. "I… I did what you said…"
Lauren didn't answer right away. A small, private smile curved her lips cold, satisfied, almost hungry.
She leaned down, pressing her body flush against his, and buried her face into the crook of his neck. She inhaled deeply, slow and deliberate, nose brushing warm, freshly scrubbed skin.
"Mmm…" The sound vibrated against his throat. "What did you use, little rabbit? Tell me exactly."
Ryan's breath hitched. He could feel her lips moving against his skin as she spoke. His heart hammered so hard he was sure she could hear it.
"I… I don't know the names…" he stammered, voice tiny and humiliated.
"There was a black bottle with a silver cap… it said 'Noir Orchid' on it. I used that for my body. Then the thick white one that smelled like smoke… I think it was the body wash called 'Vetiver Smoke.' I used the small gold tube for my hair… the one that said 'Obsidian Musk.' Everything smelled so strong and… and expensive. I've never even seen bottles like that before. At home we only had the cheap bar soap from the dollar store… the kind that dries your skin out. I didn't know how much to use so I just… followed what the labels said. I'm sorry if I used too much…"
Lauren laughed softly against his neck a low, dark sound that sent shivers racing down his spine. She nuzzled deeper, lips grazing the pulse point under his jaw.
"Poor boy," she murmured, almost mockingly.
"You've been washing with grocery-store soap your whole life and now you smell like my private collection. Tell me more. Did you use the scrub? The one in the matte black jar that costs more than your worthless father makes in a month?"
Ryan nodded jerkily, still refusing to look at her, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.
"Y-yes… it had little black beads in it. It felt weird on my skin… rough. I scrubbed everywhere like you said. My arms, my chest, my… my legs. Even between my toes. I didn't want you to get angry again."
Lauren's smile widened against his skin. She could feel the faint ridges of muscle under her palms not overly defined, but there: smooth, lean abs that spoke of a boy who had spent years doing manual chores and dodging fists rather than lifting weights in some fancy gym.
She ran her bare hand slowly down his torso, tracing those subtle lines, feeling him tremble harder beneath her.
"Good," she whispered, voice velvet over steel. "You smell exactly like me now. Like you belong to me. Every inch of you."
She lifted her head just enough to look at his face. Ryan immediately turned away again, biting his lip hard enough to draw a fresh bead of blood, cheeks burning with shame. His chest rose and fell in quick, panicked breaths.
Lauren studied him for a long moment the way his damp hair stuck to his forehead, the tear tracks on his flushed skin, the way his hands clutched the sheets like they were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
"You're shaking again," she noted coolly. "Still so fucking scared. Most men would be hard as stone with a woman like me on top of them. But you… you're soft and crying like a virgin bride on her wedding night."
She shifted her weight deliberately, pressing her hips down just enough to make him whimper.
"Tell me, Ryan," she continued, voice dropping lower, more dangerous. "When was the last time anyone touched you without hurting you? Be honest. I can smell lies."
Ryan's throat worked convulsively. Another broken sob slipped out before he could stop it.
"N-never…" he whispered, so quietly she almost missed it. "No one… no one ever touched me nicely. Only hitting… only yelling… please… I'll do anything else. Just… just don't…"
Lauren didn't move off him. Instead she lowered her face back to his neck, inhaling that perfect blend of her own scent mixed with his fear-sweat and clean skin.
"Shhh," she breathed, the sound almost gentle but only almost. "You already smell like property. Now you're going to learn what property feels like."
Her fingers traced lazy circles over his abs, feeling every tiny flinch and tremble.
Then she slid off Ryan's hips and landed gracefully on the silk sheets beside him, her body still close enough that her heat pressed against his side.
She reached out and began playing with his damp hair, fingers threading slowly through the wet strands, tugging just hard enough to make his scalp tingle. The gesture looked almost gentle until you noticed the glint in her steel eyes.
"Now tell me your name," she said, voice low and commanding, like she was testing whether he would obey even the simplest order.
Ryan swallowed hard, still staring at the ceiling, cheeks burning. His voice came out small and shaky.
"R-Ryan… Ryan Hale, ma'am."
Lauren hummed softly, continuing to toy with his hair. "Good boy. Now tell me what you know about sex, Ryan."
The question hit him like a slap. His entire body stiffened. He tried to curl in on himself, but her fingers in his hair kept him pinned in place. Fresh tears welled up instantly.
"I… I don't know much," he whispered, voice cracking with embarrassment.
"Just… just what the guys at college joke about sometimes. They say it feels good and… and girls like it when you're rough. But I've never… I've never done anything. Not even kissing. I thought… I thought the hole was… somewhere in front, like… below the belly button? I don't know. I'm sorry. I really don't know where a woman's hole even is."
He sounded so painfully innocent, so completely clueless, that Lauren had to bite back a dark chuckle. She kept playing with his hair, twisting a lock around her finger.
"Where do you think it is, exactly?" she asked, tone deceptively calm.
Ryan's face turned scarlet. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, mortified. "I… I don't think it's appropriate to talk about this… please…"
The moment the words left his mouth, Lauren's hand left his hair and shot down to grab his chin hard. Her fingers dug into his jaw with bruising force, yanking his face toward hers so he had no choice but to look at her.
"You just do what I say, okay?" she hissed, eyes flashing with cold authority. "No arguing. No hiding. No pretending you're too shy. You belong to me now, and I decide what's appropriate. Understood?"