Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
He played with my hair, petting and comforting me. “You’re also going to enroll in college.”
I froze. So that was why he got me a new laptop?
“You only have to take one class at first. I’ll help you with the logistics. We’ll make it work with your obligations to me, and before you get upset, remember what I told you—it’s my responsibility as your Dom to do what’s best for you. To help you reach your full potential in all aspects of your life. This is me doing that, okay?”
“I trust you.” I was also really, really mad at him. Angry, in fact. My pulse thudded and my head suddenly felt like it would explode, but I did trust him.
“Good boy. Do you have more to say to me? Is there something you want to talk about?”
“No,” I replied because regardless, if I wanted him to own me, this was what I had to do…and I wanted that, more than anything in the world. To belong to Aidan Kingsley.
“Okay. Did you obey me today? Take your nap and keep from touching yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Very good. I’m proud of you.” He maneuvered me so I looked up at him. “You’re mine, Finley, and I promise I’ll take good care of you.”
I soared at his words, was literally afraid I would float away. “Thank you for…wanting me.”
“I do, very much. More than I thought I would.”
Oh, those were the best words.
“Now, why don’t you lie on the couch. We’ll watch one of your shows, and then I’ll take you to your room and let you come again before bed. Would you like that?”
My heart jumped, and my dick throbbed. “Can we skip the show and go upstairs now?”
Aidan laughed. “Such a handful. No, precious boy. Patience.”
I hated patience, but belonging to Aidan, I knew I would need a lot of it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Aidan
My days off had switched around this week because another surgeon was on vacation. It was a busy day for Finley. He’d taken care of his morning chores, then pouted and tried to stay home with me instead of going to school, which he’d started when the semester began in January, at one of the local community colleges. We were shocked everything wasn’t full, but we’d gotten lucky. He was taking two classes, which was a surprise since I’d said he only had to take one. The boy had made sure his classes were late enough in the day that he could do his household duties on Tuesdays and Thursdays before going in. I’d tried to give him those mornings off, but he’d begged me to keep his schedule, and I’d allowed it. He had a way of getting what he wanted with me that I wasn’t proud of. David teased me about it mercilessly.
But the truth was, I knew he needed it. While I wanted Finley to have an education, a backup plan, as of yet, nothing fulfilled him the way serving did. It was in his bones, swam around deep in the marrow. It was as much a part of him as his DNA. The more time he spent with me, the more I saw it. He desired to serve and to be taken care of. There was no changing it, not that I wanted to. Changing him wasn’t what going to school was about. He deserved options; I wanted him to have the opportunities my mother was never allowed to have.
And frankly, as the months passed, I saw that he liked attending his classes more than he wanted to admit. He’d tell me things he’d learned, and boast about scores on exams, and speak about his fellow students. So yes, I believed I was doing right by him, and I planned to continue on the same path, even if I wanted to possess him in every way.
Shaking those thoughts from my head, I glanced over to see it was almost time for Finley to get out of class. A smile pulled at my lips when I thought of the way he had been rushing around the house that morning, trying to clean, exercise, eat breakfast, and do all the things he was supposed to do before leaving. I couldn’t say what made me do it exactly—whether I wanted to reward him, or just spent time with him, or show him off publicly, as we didn’t often do—but I picked up my phone and sent him a text: Come straight home today.
There was a ten-minute delay, and I knew it was because his class was still in session. I forbade him to be on his cell phone when he was supposed to be learning.
Yes, Sir…but it’s grocery shopping day.
Again, I smiled. The boy made me do that a lot. He was so beautifully submissive to me. He would come home because it pleased me, even though it warred with his set schedule in taking care of the home.