Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
It was a fucked-up situation, as Wren would say with a huge grin on her face.
“I can’t promise I won’t argue with you again,” I finally replied, my voice scratchy from the last hour that had involved Jay fucking me in the car then carrying me back into the bedroom where he tied me up while he ate my pussy, eventually untying me to rest on his chest.
“I know you’re going to argue with me, pet,” he murmured. “It’s the best part of my day.”
My breath caught in my chest with this admission. The very first time he’d said anything that even gave me the tiniest hint that he felt ... something for me. That there was more to this than his need for control, a convenient sex partner.
I didn’t know what to say to him. Didn’t know which words would coax more from him. Didn’t know if I’d ever get more from him. So I held on to the scraps he’d fed me like they were a banquet.
My eyes flickered to the sun setting against the Sunday sky. Jay had told me earlier in the week that he’d have ‘business’ to attend to tonight, so I’d said yes to a late-night fitting with a Real Housewife. It would take me an hour to get from here to my place, where I would change, get what I needed and eat something. Then another forty minutes to get to her place.
“Yes, well I’ve got to go to work,” I reminded him, moving from the bed, my muscles protesting as I did.
I was getting used to the pain now. Coming to crave it. I loved moving throughout the day while feeling the evidence of Jay’s touch.
He studied me from his spot on the bed, eyes following my naked body’s every movement. At first, his constant staring had been slightly uncomfortable; I felt vulnerable having this sex god Adonis looking at me from every angle. But he’d repeatedly made it very, very clear how much he liked my body.
As a woman working in the fashion industry, I didn’t have the best history of body confidence, it was something that I was still growing into. Something that I still struggled with. Even if I never wanted to be a size zero, it still fucked with me, working with so many beautiful, flawless people.
People who, to look as amazing as they did, usually had mental health problems, drug problems and paid a lot of money for plastic surgery.
That’s what I tried to remind myself.
But Jay had really helped me fall in love with my imperfections and curves. Or at least make peace with them.
“I’ll see you in two weeks?” I asked, zipping up my skirt and reaching for my shirt that had landed on the bedpost. The bedpost that still had the restraints that had left the marks on my ankles that would stay for at least a week.
Jay had been watching me get dressed with the same detached intensity he did everything. The man never did anything lazily, not even five minutes after he’d orgasmed. That intensity increased tenfold after I spoke, his eyes narrowing and he sat up in bed. “Two weeks?” he repeated. “I thought we were clear on the terms of the arrangement. I get every weekend.”
His voice was ice. And I instantly responded to it. The coldness. The authority. I was learning something about myself that I wasn’t quite sure if I liked. The fact that Jay speaking to me liked that turned me on. That was definitely something to unpack with a therapist later in life, when all of this was over. I’d have plenty of time for that. For now, though, I was just going to accept it. Obey him.
“Yes, you do get every weekend,” I clarified. “But next weekend is Thanksgiving.” I finished buttoning my shirt so I could search for my heels.
“I’m aware what next weekend is,” Jay continued. “But I am also aware that you agreed to every weekend until this arrangement is done. No stipulations. No exceptions.”
I blinked at him. “You seriously thought that I wouldn’t spend a holiday at home with my father, who would otherwise be alone, in order to follow the rules of arrangement?” My voice was sharp, laden with sarcasm as I slipped on my shoes.
“Yes,” he replied. “You are not going anywhere.”
His words were colder than usual. I also knew he considered them to be law. That his statement was the end of this conversation. I’d had enough experience with this man to know that it would’ve been a waste of my time to argue with him. And most of the time, giving in to him worked out in my favor, even though I always judged myself after for letting him control me so wholly for two days out of the week.