Cartier Bruises

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ᏚᏌᎷᎷᎪᎡY: When a wave of jealousy takes over you, Michael reminds you that you're his girl.

₩ØƦÐ ₡ØỤ₦Ŧ : 2092

🅦🅐🅡🅝🅘🅝🅖🅢: Smut! Dom Michael and sub reader, spanking, degradation, bondage, face slapping, choking, slight Daddy kink

          You were his most prized possession. Everyone very well knew it.

           "Give yourself to me," Michael had told you, "And you will never want for anything ever again." Michael was all you truly wanted, and when you had taken his hand in submission, you made sure he knew so. Nonetheless, the man treated you like a queen.

           Harry Winston necklaces. La Perla lingerie. Chanel tweed dresses. Jimmy Choo heels. You never asked for any of his lavish gifts. Perfectly wrapped boxes would appear on your shared bed, and when you told Michael you really didn't need his most recent expense, he would insist. He would say he wanted you looking your best for the next Cooperative meeting. You knew though that Michael just loved to spoil you. He didn't care how you looked. And he knew that you secretly loved his presents, despite never asking him for a thing.

           You were Michael's most prized possession. But his gold Cartier rings were a close second. His Panther ring with jeweled emerald eyes cost him a small fortune - $20,000. His diamond paved Love Ring and classic Love Ring carried heavy price tags as well. His always impeccable all black Saint Laurent ensembles were of course expensive, but never close to the $33,000 Michael wore on his fingers alone. At the end of the night, the last thing Michael did was slide the rings off his fingers, and place them in his jewelry dish on your vanity before climbing into bed with you. Sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair out, the dish was empty.

          Michael had texted you earlier, letting you know that there had been some complications with a project he had commissioned at the robotics company where he'd recently been doing business. In turn, you ate dinner by yourself, took a hot bath, and were now debating whether or not you should stay up any later. He'd told you not to wait up, but you missed him. Michael had left before you'd even woken up that morning, and you'd had a very lonely day. Sighing and placing the brush down, you craned your neck to check the clock sitting on your nightstand. It was a little past midnight. With reluctance, you slipped your robe off, leaving you in a pink Agent Provocateur babydoll, and slid between your and Michael's silk sheets, pulling them tightly around you.

            In the morning, Michael's side of the bed was still perfectly made. He'd never come home. Slight worry plaguing you, you reached to your nightstand and grabbed your phone, checking the home screen. No new messages. No missed calls. Unlocking your phone, you called Michael, sitting up in bed. He answered on the first ring.

           "Good morning, angel."

           His velvet voice calmed you immediately. "Michael," you sighed, "Where are you?"

           "Still at Kineros," he huffed, a door slamming shut in the background. "Jeff and Mutt are really testing my patience."

           You rolled your eyes at the mere mention of the two men. They were brilliant, but had despicable habits.

           "When will you be home?" you asked, repressing a whine.

           "Soon, Y/N. I promise."

           You heard a voice in the background, and Michael abruptly ended the conversation. "I have to go. Don't wait up again." With a beep, the line disconnected.

           Don't wait up again? With a spring in your step, you flung open the doors to your wardrobe, deciding on a Miu Miu mini dress and coordinating patent leather heels. You couldn't wait all day again and only possibly see Michael that night. You'd quickly made up your mind to give him a visit.

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