While she’s still trying to get her breath back, I sheath myself inside her again and thrust hard and deep. The sight of her, spread before me, is intoxicating. As I near my climax, I get the urge to mess her up.
“Can I come on you?”
She nods, and I pull out and rip the condom off. Taking myself in my hand, I brace myself over her and pump hard. A moment later, I spurt through my fingers and stripe her with thick white lines. I look at myself, glistening on her belly. That’s fucking beautiful.
With a groan of satisfaction, I sink down onto the bed and pull Wraye on top of me.
She smiles down at me, her forefinger running over my lower lip. “Now you’ve got it all over you, too.”
“Good. How do you feel?” There’s a smear of blood on my hand. I probably shouldn’t have done as she asked and fucked her so hard, right from the start.
“Like you went to town on me.” She flicks her eyes up at me. “I’m glad it won’t hurt like that again, but I kind of enjoyed it. Like when you pinched my clit yesterday. I like when you’re mean, Daddy.”
“Is that so?” I smile at her. “As long as I make you come after?”
“Well, of course,” she purrs. “Shouldn’t I always get what I want?”
I wrap my arms around her and laugh. “Of course, sweetheart.”
I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years, but I indulge in just ten minutes of holding Wraye against me, before I get us up and into the shower. She pins her hair up, so it doesn’t get wet, and I loofah us both up. Especially her. She looks incredible, all sudsy.
Wraye gets out first, and I emerge from the shower with a towel around my hips and rubbing another one through my hair. Wraye’s already dressed and stripping the bed.
“You don’t have to do that,” I tell her.
“I don’t want the cleaner to see these and figure out what happened here. I’ll just put the sheets in the washer before we go.”
“There’s no cleaner. It’s just me.”
She freezes, halfway through bundling up a sheet, and turns to stare at me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Why is there no cleaner?”
“I thought you’d prefer that.”
She looks almost angry with me. “Who gave you the right to say things like that? You were just going to change the sheets yourself?”
“Yes. It’s not important.”
“Yes, it is.” And then her face crumples, and she sits down heavily on the bed.
“Oh, sweetheart.” I go and sit down on the bed and pull her against me. For a second, she resists me, but I don’t give her a choice. Her tears are hot against my chest. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”
“I didn’t sleep last night, worrying that this was going to be just as seedy as meeting you in a hotel,” she whispers thickly. “I thought someone was still going to clean up after us, and they’d be thinking this was something sordid. I know it shouldn’t matter to me what other people think, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. No one’s done anything nice for me, just because, in so long.”
Poor little thing. It must have been brutal for her under the People’s Republic. I kiss her forehead. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do anything nice for anyone. Can I see you again, soon?”
Wraye wraps her arms tighter around me as she sniffles and hiccups her way back to composure. “Yes, please, Daddy.”
I hold her in my arms, feeling her warm weight against my body and my heart. “Good girl. Go splash some cold water on your face. Daddy wants to see you smile, before he says goodbye.”
She wipes her face. “I like hearing you call yourself that. It makes you seem less scary. I’ll remember it next time I see you at Court and you’re in your uniform being curtsied to.”
It makes me feel centered, being that for her. Knowing that she does what I say, because she wants to, not because she has to. I stroke my thumb against her cheek, gazing down at her.
“Am I your dirty little secret?” she asks, anxiety flickering in her eyes.
“No. You’re my sweet little secret. The sweetest secret anyone could have.”
“Your sweet secret. I like that.” She lays her head on my shoulder.
So do I. My sweet little secret, and one day, she’ll be my sweet little wife.Chapter FourteenWrayeTwo weeks after we first became lovers, Devrim and I have managed to be alone at the apartment four times, always during the day. He’s bought me presents of lingerie, though I can’t take them home. I keep them at the apartment, and I wear them for him. They’re not the harsh red and black kind that I used to find in the beds at Hotel Ivera, but soft pastels colors. Cute camisoles and tiny G-strings. Bra sets with ruffles.