Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
But he’d been asleep and my doing that pretty much amounted to sexual assault. It’d been wrong. But I’d woken up to him looking beautiful and sleeping again with me cradled against him and so I wanted to wake him up in a way that showed my appreciation as well as ensured he’d want me. But he’d been angry. And now I knew why. He wasn’t there to collect his slave; he was there to deal with a mess put on his shoulders by his deceased father. He gets saddled with me, a dirty and broken human being, and I’m all stammering, begging for sex, and being a pain in his butt.
But sex was all I knew anymore. I knew almost nothing anymore of who I was before Thailand. I only knew A to B. Screw them good and make them happy. Screwing them good generally did make them happy. It meant I didn’t get punished, and it helped me get and then stay on course, a course of staying on the short list and not being subjected to corrections or retraining for non-compliance, and because of that, maybe that’s why I got off on it.
It was who I had to be and every small A to B victory meant success, so I got off on it in a dysfunctionally twisted way. I’d always been sexual. Always. Even as a small girl. And the Kruna scouts knew how to spot it and their trainers sure knew how to exploit it. And somehow, I used it. I used my sexuality to get myself out of there.
I looked back up from his happy trail to his face and he was now awake and watching me. He was watching me ogle him. Our eyes locked. I moistened my lips and tried to settle myself down. I was probably flushed. I was so aroused right now. I wanted him, wanted him bad.
“Jetlag,” he mumbled.
“Yeah,” I rasped.
He stretched. “Wanna crash?”
I think I nodded.
He got up. “You take my bed.” He stretched again as he walked to his alarm panel by the door and hit some buttons that beeped and the sight of his muscled arms and back as he stretched revved me up even further.
“But the futon sucks,” I answered softly.
“Yeah, the futon sucks.”
“I can sleep on the futon,” I said but was hoping he wouldn’t make me sleep alone in there.
“Naw, I’ll be fine.” He massaged the back of his neck with a wince and I knew he was thinking about how uncomfortable of a sleep that futon would be. “Maybe the couch is better,” he said.
“It’s pretty comfy. I can just sleep here. You take your bed.”
“Naw, you take the bed.” He was staring at me.
“We could both sleep in your bed again,” I offered.
His eyes lit with something and he sneered. He looked severely pissed off.
“I’m sorry. I –”
“You take my bed. I’ll sleep out here. I’ll order a bed tomorrow for the den, move my desk out here, you can have that room.”
I wasn’t about to argue with that hard expression and those angry eyes. I don’t think anyone would.
“Thank you for dinner and the movie. And, um, everything. You’ve been very kind. Kinder than you should have to be. Thank you.”
He gave me a little smile but it had pity written all over it.
“Goodnight,” I said.
He gave me a chin jerk but said nothing.
I woke up to shrill screaming in the pitch dark. It set my fight or flight instinct in motion big time and I reached to get between the bed and box spring for my piece but then I realized I wasn’t in bed. I was on the couch. I ran to the bedroom. She was flailing in my bed in a nightmare. I grabbed her.
“Felicia! Wake up!”
She was writhing in agony.
“Hey, it’s just a dream.” I pulled her up to sitting.
She started to sob and a flurry of words and whimpers came out.
“Master, don’t let them get me.” She threw her arms over my shoulders and clung to my neck like her life depended on it.
“Shh.” I lay down, taking her with me. Her head landed on my shoulder. I stroked her hair and she loosened her grip around my neck and fisted my t-shirt. “It’s gonna all be okay, babe. Settle down. I promise it’ll be okay. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whimpered, and her breathing slowed down.
I thought she was settling but then she said, “Make me yours, Master. Take me. Make me yours.”
I thought the ‘master’ ramblings were her asleep, still in the nightmare. I guess I’d been wrong.
“Baby, I’m not your Master,” I said, shaking my head.
“I want you to be,” she whispered. “I’ll be a good girl.” She squirmed into me. “Your good girl.”
For fuck’s sake. I had goosebumps everywhere and all the blood in my head rushed straight to my cock.