Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
There was an absolute liberation in obeying his order, knowing that but for his command I wouldn’t have done it at all. True… I could have said ‘no’. He’s made that clear often enough.
But it’s also true I enjoy my time with Asher. He’s awakened a wicked streak I never knew existed within me. I’ve run on auto pilot for so long, struggling to make it through a day working back-breaking jobs, all for just a few peaceful hours with my daughter on the weekend, that I had forgotten what it was like to experience pleasure. I’d forgotten what it was like to do something satisfying purely for myself, and that is not something I expected to get out of the deal I made with the devil named Asher Knight.
He rode me hard from behind while I was in the stocks, but not before he had me give him a blow job in front of the voyeuristic crowd watching us. With my head held tight in place by the stocks, he fucked my mouth without restraint, pulling away before he came on my tongue. He then moved behind me, driving in hard and deep.
My only regret from that experience was I couldn’t see his face that first time he entered me without a condom on. He let out a harsh grunt of satisfaction when he sank inside of me—a sound that made my toes curl because it sounded like nothing had ever felt better to him.
I know it felt amazing to me, which was why I was surprised when he pulled out just before he orgasmed and came all over my back instead. It threw me off for a moment, since he is the one who wanted to do away with the condoms. I expected the greater intimacy would have been to come inside me, but when he was done, he said something that caused my skin to prickle.
He said, “I’ve marked you. Now everyone in here knows your mine.”
His voice was low, and he wasn’t speaking to me. He was murmuring to himself, and I’m not even sure he knew he said it out loud.
After, when he’d cleaned me off and released me, he was as distant as he usually is. Asher knows how to put a wall up fast, and I expect he’s got emotional intimacy issues, which is absolutely none of my business.
But then he did something odd.
He insisted on driving me home rather than packing me off into an Uber. Even though I’d bought a little used Honda Accord earlier that day, I chose not to drive just in case I had a few drinks at the club to help loosen me up. Socializing with a glass of wine wasn’t on Asher’s agenda, though, as he took me straight to The Silo and the stocks.
Asher didn’t talk much on the way to my house, and he made no comment about the crummy neighborhood I lived in, nor did he walk me to the door like a gentleman would after a date.
But he did sit out in front of my house, not leaving until after I’d shut and locked the door behind me.
I didn’t know what to make of it, and I don’t want to make anything of it. That was then, and this is now.
It’s Saturday morning, which means I get Hope until midday on Sunday.
Despite my lack of sleep, I’m completely energized about seeing my daughter. Last weekend, Nelson let her attend a camping trip which took away one of my designated days with her. While I never would have denied her the opportunity to go if she’d asked me, I was still blaming Nelson for my loss. I think that’s because I know he relished in the pain it caused me, but today is a fresh start.
Nelson has no idea I’m going to fight him for Hope. Now—thanks to Asher and his unique offer of employment—I’m going to have the financial means necessary to get my daughter back.
When I pull into Nelson’s driveway, I’m surprised to see Amelia waiting on the front porch with Hope, who has a pink, sequined book bag on her back and a white stuffed unicorn with a rainbow mane clutched in her arms. She and Amelia are sitting side by side on the top step, but I barely have the car in park before Hope is shooting off the porch. By the time I exit my car, my daughter is there and throwing her little body into my arms.
“Hey, Monkey,” I say with an unbidden quaver to my voice. I hug her hard while she presses her face into my stomach. At five and a half years old, she likes to show me what a big, independent girl she’s become, so when she lets down those defenses and melts into me, it absolutely overwhelms my emotions. “I missed you.”