I own him. He's completely mine, one hundred percent, with his brown eyes begging me at every moment to please just pay him some attention. I do, of course, making sure to make a big deal of how inconvenient it is to touch his neck, or to give him little tastes of the pain he so craves. Most often I just smirk at him, shake my head, and walk away. But because he's mine, and I don't want him to stop being mine, I don't make too much of a habit of it.
He's been mine since the first day I decided he would be. I began my seduction slowly, a teasing glance, a brief touch, a knowing look. By the end of the day, he was panting for more. I gave him one last taste--a painful squeeze to his straining cock--then left him alone. I knew then that he was mine, listening to him gasp and try not to sob as I left him. I grinned the whole way home.
I just didn't realize how jealous of him I'd be. I hate it when he talks to people, even if I know he has to. I don't care who it is, they should have to get my permission first. I thought about making Harmony pre-approve all his appointments with me, but then I realized I'd have to explain why. That's not something I care to do. When--if--I decide to let the others know about my possession of Angel, I'll make him tell them. I'll even write it out for him, make him read it word-for-word. It'll make him blush so bright. When he gets like that, all flushed with blood he's drunk from his "World's Best Boss" mug--the only one Harm can keep track of--he makes me want to lick every inch of him. I will one day. But not yet.
For now, I'm sticking to making him beg for every tiny scrap of attention, forcing him to jump through hoops to be near me, hoops he normally wouldn't have to go through, not until I decided he was mine.
And he is mine. I'm never sharing him, not if I can keep him so perfectly obedient and submissive like this forever. I grin. Oh, yes. He's all mine.