Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“You are such a good girl,” he praises me. “You were a perfect little pet last night. You did everything I asked of you, and more. And now look at you. Flushed and filled with my cock, wanting more of my come. Isn’t that right, Charlie?”
“Yes,” I admit in a soft moan.
This is all I want. This is all I think I will ever be capable of wanting. This feels like all of my desires being fulfilled at once. This is proper, wholesome, romantic love.
“I need to go out today,” I tell him once we’ve rearranged our clothes and brains and I feel more normal.
“Why?” He gives me a sharp look, as if I might be up to something.
“My friends are worried about me. I can’t just fall off the face of the planet.”
“True,” he says. “And I have my own business to attend to. Very well, pet. You may go out for the evening.”
There’s a sassy part of me that makes me want to thank him with more attitude than he would appreciate, but I manage not to.
“I want you back here no later than eight,” he says. “You can call Peter when you want a ride, okay?”
“Does that mean I get my phone back?” He took my phone when he took my jacket off at the Embassy, and he never gave it back.
“Yes,” he says. “Well. Sort of. I got you a new one. All the contacts and messages have been transferred over.”
It doesn’t take a genius to work out that this phone is obviously as tapped as a phone can get. There’s not a word on this thing that won’t be transmitted directly to him. Fine. And obviously he’ll be able to track me, but he can already do that.
“Thank you?” I try not to put the question mark at the end of the comment, but I can’t help myself.
“You’re welcome,” he says, ignoring my inflection.
“I’m going to need casual clothes, though. Is there any chance some of them made it here, or…”
“I’ll send someone out for some clothing for you. It won’t be long. Anything you want in particular?”
“Oh. Uhm.”
“Put the order through on your phone. There’s an app.”
I look at the phone and see that there is an app there with a little collar on it. When I tap the pink icon, it opens to a list, basically, where you can share links and other things.
“You want something? Need something? You share it there,” Marcus says.
“Really? I can order anything I want?”
“Yes, pet,” he smiles. “Anything you want.”
Hours later, I am looking hot. I am wearing newer, pricier clothes than I’ve ever worn before. I am meeting my friends at Sasha’s place, and I am bringing the drinks. Top shelf stuff. And I’m bringing fresh sushi from the best restaurant in the city. And my friends have stopped looking at me like I’m borderline mentally ill and someone to be pitied.
As I step in the door, they greet me with a chorus of questions and exclamations.
“Charlie!”
“Are you really dating Marcus fucking Waterstone?”
“Is that sushi?”
It’s a good night. It’s the best night. I get to hang out with my friends, tell them very little really, but spoil them with everything Marcus has given me. When they want dessert, I order tiramisu and have it delivered from an upscale restaurant. It’s the best sushi and tiramisu any of us have ever had, we all agree.
It’s nice to have one evening of normality, to see my friends and to remind myself who I really am when I’m not a collared animal being fucked for a billionaire’s pleasure.
Time gets away from me a bit, and I’m a little late going back to Marcus’ place, but I assume he’s busy. As I leave Sasha’s place, it’s 8:05 p.m., which means I’m probably going to be back by 8:30 p.m. or so.
I have a certain level of nervousness at knowing I have broken one of his rules. He won’t be happy. He’ll probably punish me. I shouldn’t feel this much excitement at that prospect…
“Char!”
I get a block or two away from Sasha’s place before I am grabbed by the waist and swung around like a ragdoll.
It’s been months since this happened to me, but my nervous system reacts as if it has only been a couple of hours. I freeze. My stomach churns. I feel myself start to sweat and feel sick at the same time.
“Put me down, please, Trent,” I say, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
The face of the last man I was stupid enough to find handsome leers down at me. This is Trent. My ex.
“Where have you been, Char? I went by the old place and didn’t see you.”
He’s not talking about the apartment Marcus moved me out of. He’s talking about the place he and I used to share. The one he smashed the fuck out of before he left me for another girl who he’d knocked up.