Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Yeah, I’d made her cry but because she was mine, I’d comfort her afterwards. It was a beautiful thing. A twisted but beautiful thing. She was right, I was a sick fuck.
I’d been with plenty of women who’d let me tie them up, who’d loved when I slapped or whipped them, but they’d never affected me like this. The BDSM club I’d joined a few years back made it so that I always got just what I wanted without having to look too far. I’d go in, give a look, maybe have a drink with a woman, sometimes two women. Sometimes I’d just lift my chin at a woman and it was enough for her to know. I’d walk out and leave, someone would follow, I’d get what I wanted, and it’d be over. They were usually way too fucking eager so sometimes, depending on what I was in the mood for, I had to fuck with their heads and make them afraid… see the fear to get me hard.
Some were so seasoned at the lifestyle that it just wasn’t a challenge for me because there was no fear, only anticipation. I enjoyed the cat and mouse game, but it had to feel real. Sometimes I had to go what some might call a little too far to get the result I wanted and then when it was over, I never wanted to go back for seconds.
Until now, I guess I never knew what I really needed. This girl, this gift to me that was sound asleep on top of me was so responsive. She was the perfect amount of defiant and afraid at the same time. And she was mine. All mine.
I’d give her everything. She’d want for nothing. I’d give her everything she wanted and I’d avenge her with anyone who’d ever crossed her, including her sorry excuse for a father. I’d never wanted to give a woman so much before. I’d never wanted to take so much from her at the same time. I wanted her to give me everything she had, every emotion.
I went to sleep filled with emotions I’d never had before. Possessiveness, need, and fear. Fear of what, I didn’t know.
In the middle of the night I woke up to a scream. I bolted upright. She was thrashing beside me, in the throes of some nightmare, probably a nightmare about me.
I grabbed her. “Athena!”
She half woke up, confused. I pulled her against me and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
She was stiff in my arms, trembling, having trouble shaking whatever she’d dreamt about. She tried to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her go. I cooed in her ear, stroked her back, and kissed her over and over. When she finally stopped fighting, but cried herself back to sleep on me I lay awake in deep in thought for a long time, a strange emotion swelling in my chest. Finally, she went completely soft and I heard her breathing even out, so I closed my eyes.
I made her stay. She didn’t want me. Suddenly I wanted to be the source of the comfort, the one she reached for, not the source of nightmares. I slept like shit.
I woke up with her laying on top of me, her head on my chest and her leg draped over my thigh. I gingerly got out of bed before she woke. I saw her backside was still pink, still covered in my fingerprints and I caught sight of one of her knees and it was all scraped-looking, I guess from when I dragged her back to me across the carpet. I felt a strange pull in me. I didn’t want to see her eyes open. I couldn’t explain why, but I just didn’t wanna see sadness in them and suspected that’s exactly what I’d see. I was gone before she was awake. I’d grabbed my gym bag, a garment bag that had a dry-cleaned suit in it and tossed a clean pair of jeans and pair of dress shoes into the bag, then headed out.
I called the house at around 10:30.
“What’s she doing?” I asked Sarah. I was waiting at one of our coffee shops for someone and that someone was late. Not impressed. I glanced at my watch and tapped my foot impatiently.
“She’s not so good. She’s been crying. You really need to be gentler, give her time to–”
“I didn’t ask how she’s doing, I asked what she’s doing,” I snapped.
I could almost hear the disapproval through the dead air.
“Mind your own fucking business, Sarah. What’s she doing?”
“She’s watching television in your room. I just checked on her and brought her coffee and breakfast. She won’t get out of bed.”
I switched the phone off without saying goodbye.
That night I got back late, but she was still awake. She was in my bed, staring at the TV when I opened the door. She didn’t look at me. I walked into the bathroom and undressed. When I came back her eyes were closed, but I knew she wasn’t asleep. I got a drink and stood over the bed, watching her while slowly sipping from a glass of whiskey.