Fifty Shades of BDSM Trilogy by Sky Corgan Page A

side window of
the Lamborghini as we drove to Jack's mansion, avoiding
conversation as best I could. He made some comment about the
weather, and I grunted in reply, knowing that my childish actions
were only adding to the tension between us.
    When we got to the mansion, he walked me
inside to the living room. “Would you like something to drink?”
Jack asked.
    “Water,” I replied, taking a seat in one of
the plush recliners.
    Jack returned with two bottles of water,
handed one to me, and then sat down on the sofa across for me,
running his hand through his tousled dark hair, looking more
nervous than I had ever seen him. “You're still pissed at me,
aren't you?”
    I sighed. “I don't know.”
    “I really thought that you would learn
something from the school,” Jack began, and I could tell that he
didn't know where he was going with it.
    “I did learn something from the school. I
learned that you don't know anything about me, and that you didn't
care to learn anything about me before you sent me.”
    “That's not exactly what I meant.” Jack
scratched the back of his neck. The pained look on his face was
exquisite, as if he would rather be anywhere else than discussing
this with me now.
    “I also learned that this arranged marriage
isn't as important to me as I once thought it was.”
    “Melita, I'm sorry. I don't know how many
times I can say it. Why don't we start over? You're going to be my
wife and we need to make this work out?”
    “Jack, aren't you the least bit worried that
we're going to get married, and you're not going to be happy? That
neither one of us are going to be happy? Doesn't that bother you at
all?”
    “Of course it bothers me,” he leaned back
against the sofa cushion. “I want this to work out for us—want us
both to be happy.”
    “Then how do we get there from here? Because
I'm not happy, and I know that you're not happy either,” my tone
softened.
    “I don't know.” He shook his head in
frustration. “I'm not used to . . . girls like you.”
    “And I'm not used to guys like you, so that
makes us even. We need to find some middle ground.”
    “I know. What do you suggest?”
    I thought about it. “Well, tell me what's
important to you, and I'll tell you what's important to me. Maybe
we can start from there.”
    “I'm not sure what you mean.”
    “Well, for instance, you said that me
learning about BDSM is important to you. But it's important to me
that I only share my body with you. I think that's something that
we need to come to a compromise on. If you want me to learn, I am
willing. I just want you to teach me yourself. I'd also like to
know why it's so important to you. You've been incredibly
vague.”
    “It's not something that I like talking
about,” Jack admitted.
    “I'm going to be your wife. That means not
keeping secrets from each other.”
    “It's just.” He sighed, running his hands
through his hair again. I could tell that even mentioning it made
him uncomfortable. “Would you be open to having sex before the
wedding?”
    “Yes, but only if you're willing to tell me.
It's a compromise, remember?”
    Jack nodded, avoiding my eyes as he
contemplated it. “Alright. I'll tell you after we have sex.”
    A ball of nervousness began to build inside
my stomach, wondering when he would actually want to have sex. The
thought filled me with excitement, and a strange yearning. Even
though I wasn't particularly pleased with Jack right now, I still
found him incredibly attractive, lust inducing even. The thought of
sleeping with him before the wedding was a bit daunting, but if it
helped to strengthen our shattered relationship, then I was willing
to give it a go.
    “Jack, how many girls have you been with?” I
asked curiously.
    My question seemed to startle him, and he
hesitated before answering, “Four.”
    There was no way that was an honest answer.
Jack Kemble, multibillionaire sex symbol who dated dozens of
Hollywood starlets couldn't possibly have ever