Control

Chapter 7: Her First Punishment

It wasn't until they were already in the car and driving to Harry's apartment nearby that a sudden thought dawned on Leya.  She paled slightly.

"Um S-Sir?" she began timidly, fiddling with her fingers in her lap, unable to look up at Harry.

"Yes?"

She felt his thumb gently trace patterns on her thigh, but it only made her tense up more.

"I-I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Sir. I know we kissed back there, but when I agreed to come see your apartment, I-I didn't mean, I, uh, I just—"

Harry's head whipped towards her so fast that Leya braced herself for a sudden jerk of the car. But it remained steady on the road, his hands not moving an inch.

"Leya, you didn't think I meant THAT when I offered to show you my house?" He let out of a puff of air, shaking his head. "You just told me that you had never even been kissed before, and you thought—"

The heat of indignation mixed with embarrassment flooded her system .

"I-I didn't know what to think; I'm still getting to know you, okay? I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page." Her voice was undeniably flustered, making Harry's cheek twitch slightly. She was just so damn cute sometimes. Still, he was shocked and slightly offended that she would think so low of him, but of course she was concerned. He was more frustrated with himself that he hadn't made his intentions clear.

"I apologize if I in any way led you to believe those were my intentions. I just want to show you around and lay down some base rules of our relationship."

Leya's brow furrowed slightly, but her body relaxed greatly against the seat. Rules? What rules? Like calling him Sir? Before she could think it over too much, however, Harry pulled to a stop in a reserved parking spot outside of a modern looking building. As he led her inside, she couldn't help but marvel at the entrance, professional and clean with marble floors and a chandelier. The receptionist seated behind a grand wooden desk nodded to Harry, which he returned, striding to the elevators like he owned the floor beneath him. His whole being radiated power like the sun radiated warmth, and Leya stared after him slightly in awe and slightly in fear. The air felt heavier as the elevator doors closed behind the pair, and Leya found herself unable to keep from tapping her fingers against her thigh, her fears echoing louder in her head in the sudden quiet. Suddenly, her restless hand was engulfed in a much larger, mich stronger one.

"Stop fidgeting," Harry commanded in his steely tone, and Leya gulped, nodding faintly. Harry didn't remove his hand as the elevator doors dinged open on the top floor. There were only a few doors up here, Leya noticed, with Harry's door being at the end.

Leya didn't know what she had expected, but as soon the door swung open, she knew her imagination hadn't prepared her nearly enough. Dark wooden panelling covered the walls, opening up into a huge space for the living room. Floor to ceiling windows made up the far wall of the loft, showcasing a breathtaking view of the city and coating the whole indoor scene in a soft natural light. To the left, a dark metal staircase led up to the second story, while to the right on the other side of the living room sat a modern-looking kitchen with dark metal appliances, separated by a marble island with metal barstool seats.

"Welcome to your new home," Harry said,  bringing Leya's hand up to his mouth a placing a lingering kiss upon her knuckles. Leya just shook her head, trying to take it all in. She was struck by how stylish every piece of furniture was, but there was also this undeniable cozy feeling the whole space emanated, making her feel warm.

"I can't believe you live here," was all Leya was able to get out as she ran her fingers along the soft-leather couch, craning her neck to see the second story. Suddenly, strong arms encircled her waist, a firm chest pressing against her back, making Leya's breath catch slightly.