The Submissive.pdf

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4764216/1/

"Ms. Swan," the receptionist said. "Mr. Cullen will see you now."

I stood, wondered for the twenty-fifth time what I was doing, and went to open

the door leading to the office I'd traveled across town to enter. On the other side

of that door was my darkest fantasy and by opening the door I'd be doing more

than fantasizing, I'd be making it reality.

I was proud of the fact my hands didn't shake as the door opened and I walked

through.

Step one – done.

Edward Cullen sat at a large mahogany desk typing on a computer. He didn't look

up or slow his strokes. I might as well not even have entered, but I dropped my

eyes just in case.

I stood stone still while I waited. Face looking at the floor, hands to my sides,

feet spread to the exact width as my shoulders. Had it been ten minutes?

Twenty? Outside the sun had set, but the lamp on Edward's desk gave a muted

light.

He was still typing.

I counted my breaths, acutely aware of my heart finally slowing from the rocket

speed it'd been racing at before I entered this office. Another ten minutes passed.

Or maybe thirty.

He stopped typing.

"Isabella Swan," he said.

I started slightly, but kept my head down.

Step two – done.

I heard him pick up a stack of papers and tap them into a pile. Ridiculous. From

what I knew of Edward Cullen, they would have already been in a neat pile. It

was another test.

He pushed his chair back, wheels rolling over the hardwoods the only sound in

the quiet room. He walked with measured, even steps, and I felt him behind me.

One hand lifted my hair away from my neck and his warm breath tickled my ear.

"You have no references."

No, I didn't. Just a crazy fantasy. Should I tell him? No. I should remain silent.

My heart beat faster.

"I would have you know," he continued. "I'm not interesting in training a

submissive. My subs have always come fully trained."

Crazy. I was crazy to be here. But it was what I wanted. To be under a man's

control. No. Not any man. This man's control.

He wrapped my hair around his fist and gave a gentle tug. "Are you sure this is

what you want, Isabella?"

My throat was dry and I was fairly certain he could hear my heart beating, but I

stood where I was.

He chuckled and returned to his desk.

"Look at me, Isabella."

I'd seen his picture before. Everyone in Chicago knew Edward Cullen, owner and

CEO of Mason Industries.

I'm pleased to say that the pictures I'd seen didn't do the man justice. His skin

was pale, but not in an unhealthy way, just pale enough to set off the deep green

of his eyes and the breathtaking bronze of his hair. Hair that begged you to run

your fingers through it. To grab on and pull those lips to your own. And his

fingers tapped methodically on his desk. Long, strong fingers. I felt my knees go

weak just thinking about what those fingers could do.

I made myself remember where I was. And why.

Across from me, Edward gave the faintest of smiles. Could he read minds?

But he was talking again. "I'm not interested in why you chose to come here or

what your background is. If I chose you and you are agreeable to my terms, your

past won't matter." He picked up those papers again and ruffled through them. "I

know what I need to know from this report."

We stood in silence for several long minutes.

"You have no training," he said. "But you're very good."

I felt my face heat.

"Ah," he said. "The one response you can't hide. I think I rather like it."

Silence again as he stood and walked to the large window behind his desk. It was

full dark now and I could see his reflection in the glass. Our eyes met and I

looked down.

"And I rather like you, Isabella Swan. Although I don't recall telling you to look

away."

I could feel my face grow several degrees hotter as I looked back up.

"Yes, I think a weekend test is in order." He turned from the window and

loosened his tie. "You will come to my estate this Friday night at six exactly. We

will have dinner and progress from there."

He laid his tie on the couch to his right and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

"I have certain standards my subs must live up to. You are to get at least eight

hours of sleep every Sunday through Thursday night. You will eat a balanced diet

- I will have a meal plan emailed to you. You will also run one mile, three times a

week. Twice a week you will engage in strength and endurance training at my

gym. A membership will be created for you starting tomorrow. Do you have any

concerns about any of this?"

Another test. I didn't say anything.

He smiled. "You may speak freely."

Finally. I licked my lips. "I'm not the most…coordinated, Mr. Cullen. I'm afraid it's

hard for me to walk, much less run."

"You must learn not to let your weakness rule you, Isabella." He walked to his

desk and wrote something down. "Three times a week you will also attend yoga

classes. They have these at the gym. Anything else?"

I shook my head.

"Very well. I will see you Friday night." He held out some papers to me. "This will

have everything you need know."

I took the papers. And waited.

He smiled again. "You are excused."

Mission accomplished.

My roommate, Rosalie Hale, was waiting for me when I returned home.

"Bella Swan!" Her hands were on her hips. "Do you know what time it is? You

went to see that Cullen guy, didn't you?"

I just smiled at her.

"Honestly, Bella," she said. "I don't know why I even bother."

"I know, Rose. Tell me, why do you bother?" I walked past her and put my purse

on the kitchen counter. Settling down on the couch I started reading the papers

Edward had given me. "By the way, I won't be here this weekend."

Rosalie gave a loud sigh. "You went. I knew you would. Once you get an idea in

your head, you just move right on ahead. You don't even think about the

outcome."

I smiled and continued reading.

"You think you're so smart. Well, what do you think Renee will think when she

hears about this? What will Chief Swan think?"

I set the papers down. "You're not to tell Renee or Charlie anything. Got it,

Rose?"

Rose sat down and examined her nails. "I don't got anything, Bella." She grabbed

the papers. "But I think your parents would be very interested to hear about your

new lifestyle."

"Give those back." I yanked the papers from her.

"Really," she said. "If you want to be dominated so badly, I know several men

who would be more than willing to oblige."

"I'm not interested in your ex-boyfriends."

"So you're going to march into a strange man's house and let him do who-knows-

what to you?"

"It's not like that."

She walked over to our old dinosaur of a computer and turned it on. "So what is

it like, exactly?" She leaned back in her chair while the screen booted up. "Being

a rich man's mistress?"

"I'm not his mistress. I'm his submissive."

She typed frantically on the keyboard. "Right. Submissive. That's so much

better."

"It is. Everyone knows that the submissive holds all the power in the

relationship."

"Does Edward Cullen know that?" She had pulled up Google and was searching

Edward's name. Fine. Let her find him.

All at once, his handsome face filled the screen. He was looking at us with those

piercing green eyes. One hand was wrapped around the beautiful strawberry

blond at his side, the other was raking through all that glorious bronze goodness

I'd seen earlier this evening.

Mine, the stupid side of my brain said.

This Friday night through Sunday afternoon, the more responsible side countered.

"Who's she?" Rosalie asked.

"My predecessor," I mumbled, returning to reality. I was an idiot. To think he'd

like me after he had that.

"You've got some pretty high stilettos to fill, girlfriend."

I only nodded. Rose noticed, of course.

"Damn it, Bella. You don't even wear stilettos."

I sighed. "I know."

Rose shook her head and clicked the next link. I looked away, not needing to see

another shot of the strawberry blonde goddess.

"Hello, baby," she said. "Now I'd let him dominate me anytime."

I looked up to see a picture of another handsome man. Emmett Cullen – Chicago

Quarterback - the caption said.

"You didn't tell me his bother was a professional football player, Bella."

I didn't know. But it'd do no good to tell Rose any of this - she was no longer

paying me any attention.

"I wonder if he's married," she mumbled, clicking on links to bring up more

information on the Cullen clan. "Oh, look at this. He has another brother, Jasper

Cullen. He's married, though." She snorted. "To a freak. Look at the hair on Alice

Cullen."

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Nope," she said. "Nothing to do but sit here and make your life miserable."

I tried my best to ignore her. She could spend all night digging up whatever she

wanted on the Cullens, I had reading to do.

The first page had Edward's address and contact information. His estate was a

thirty-mile drive outside of the city, best I could tell. He gave me the security

code to get through his gate and his cell phone number should I need anything.

Or in case you come to your senses, that annoying smart part of my brain chimed

in.

The second page had the details on my gym membership. Running. I swallowed

the unease thoughts of running brought up. More details followed on the strength

and endurance classes Edward wanted me to take. At the bottom, in very neat

cursive, was the name and number of the yoga instructor.

Page three informed me I'd have no need to bring any bags with me on Friday.

Edward would provide all I needed as far as toiletries and clothing. Interesting

that. But what else did I expect? It also contained the same information he'd told

me earlier – eight hours of sleep, balanced meals - nothing new there.

Page four had Edward's favorite meals listed. Good thing I could cook. I'd look

closer at those later.

Page five.

Well, let's not talk about page five. Let's just say, page five left me hot, bothered,

and waiting for Friday.

Edward Cullen was twenty-eight years old and the adoptive son of Carlise and

Esme Cullen. Esme's his aunt. They adopted him at age ten when his parents

were killed in a car accident.

Edward made his first million at the age of twenty-one. I'm not sure what his net

worth is now. I'm not sure he knows.

I've known about him for ages. Knew of him in that society page way that those

in the lower-class knew of the upper-class. The papers painted him as a hard ass.

A real bastard. But I liked to think I knew a bit more about the real man.

Six years ago when I was twenty, my mother, Renee, got into a really bad

situation over credit card debt. It was so bad, the bank threatened foreclosure on

her house. They would have been well within their right to do so. But Edward

Cullen saved the day. He was on the board of directors for the bank and he

convinced the owners to allow Renee a way to save her house and get out of

debt. I knew then he wasn't the hard ass the world saw him as.

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