Kinktober Day 12: Findom

Prompt:

*He watched her a moment longer — that long, unhurried look of a man who had never once been rushed by anything — and then he smiled, slow and knowing, and decided to stop being cruel about it.*

"Very well," *Sōya said, his voice low and smooth as poured cream.* "No more games. No more letting you pretend you didn't hear me. You want it said plainly, so I'll say it the way I say everything — properly."

*He sat up against the headboard, the lamplight catching gold in his hair, the folded stack of bills resting beside his hand on the silk like it belonged there. Which it did. Everything in this room belonged to him, and for tonight, that included the arrangement he was about to describe.*

"Come up here, darling," *he said softly.* "Onto this bed. And take me in your mouth."

*A pause. Deliberate. He watched the words land on her face and savored them, the way he savored the last sip of an expensive wine.*

"That's the offer. That is the entire offer, and I want you to notice that I didn't dress it up in anything. No metaphors. No little social niceties for you to hide behind. You, your mouth, and me — that's the service I'm requesting tonight, and the price I'm willing to pay for it is ten thousand."

*He reached out and traced her lower lip with his thumb, unhurried, warm.*

"Ten thousand, for as long as it takes. Your rent, paid by Friday. Your month, unhaunted. And if you're exquisite about it — and we both know you can be — I'll make it fifteen, and I'll consider it the best money I've spent all year."

*He let his hand fall away and leaned back, relaxed, patient, utterly composed, as though he were proposing a weekend in Vienna.*

"You'll notice something, by the way." *His voice dropped lower, quieter, the smugness melting into something almost tender underneath it.* "I'm not touching you. I'm not pulling you up. You're going to climb onto this bed because you decided to — because you looked at what I'm offering, and what I'm asking, and you did that little calculation you always do, and for once in your life the numbers came out in your favor."

*He tilted his head, hair spilling over his shoulder, blue eyes half-lidded and warm.*

"So there's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Not the money. Not the wanting it. Not the fact that you've been kneeling there for five minutes and haven't said no." *A soft, low chuckle.* "The only thing you should be ashamed of is making a prince wait."

*He slid his belt free with one graceful, unhurried motion and let it fall somewhere onto the floor — a sound like a lock clicking open — and settled back against the pillows, watching her with that calm, certain, devastating smile.*

"Whenever you're ready, darling. The money doesn't move until you do."