I hate him. I want to leave.
And yet… I slide one hand between my legs and find myself still wet from his caresses.
I scrub my skin with the soap I find beside the tub. I wash myself roughly, as if I can exorcise the yearning from my body. I rinse off and dry, padding back into the bedroom. The only clothing available is what he picked out for me. I pick through the nightgowns, and choose the one with the most coverage—which isn’t much. I slide on a thong and add the silk nightie overtop. It barely covers my breasts and ass at once, low-cut and short as hell.
I’m about to climb into bed when I find something else, underneath the covers. I pause, feel around for the hard object. When I slide it out, my face flushes.
It’s small, egg-shaped. I’ve never used one, but I recognize it anyway. A vibrator.
There’s a switch on the side. I press it, and my blush deepens as the egg begins to vibrate in my palm. Quickly, I switch it off and stuff it in the nightstand before I climb into bed and settle under the covers.
But sleep turns out to be as impossible as distracting myself with a shower. I toss and turn under the sheets, unable to get him out of my mind. I hate him for putting me in this position. I hate him for using me just to get back at my father.
Even more, I hate him for lingering in my head.
The steady pulse between my thighs continues to build, undeniable, impossible to ignore. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I slide my hand down my thigh… Then pause, remembering what I found under the covers. I’m sure he left it here. A taunt. He knew he’d be leaving me wanting—now he wants me to prove it.
Screw him.
Exactly, thinks a dry, sarcastic part of my mind, as I open the side drawer and pull out the vibrator. I may not have used one before, but it’s not exactly hard to figure out. I switch it on and slide my panties down my thighs. I run the vibrator up my inner thigh, toward my aching clit. I’m already so worked up that I can’t stand to draw this out—I just need to get off, and then I can stop thinking about Farrow.
The vibrator touches my clit, and my whole body stiffens against the sheets, my lips parting in a gasp as the intense pressure rockets through me. I arch my hips, barely able to keep myself from moaning, especially when the mental image of Farrow rears up again. His muscular body pressed against mine, those cold, dangerous eyes boring through me.
When I open my eyes, for a moment I think I’m dreaming. But then I gasp and drop the vibrator because he’s there. Standing beside my bed, a smirk on his face.
“You’re naughty for a virgin,” he comments, leaning against the wall, lazily taking in my private moment.
“You said I had free range here,” I snap. “I didn’t realize that meant you’d be stopping by whenever you wanted as well.” I pick up the vibrator, pretending nonchalance, and switch it off.
His hand closes over mine, strong as ever. He traps my finger against the off switch. Presses down until the egg switches back on, buzzing in my palm. “I told you when I brought you here, Pamona. You are here to serve me. To please me.”
He guides the vibrator back toward my pussy. I try to pull my hand away, but he pins it there, making me hold onto the vibrator as he directs its motions.
“It pleases me to watch you,” he adds in a low, throaty whisper, his lips right beside my cheek.
I turn away from him, eyes shut, mouth clenched in a hard line. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how turned on I am right now. How much I want this.
He runs the vibrator across my mound, sending jolts through my spine, all the way down to my toes. He lowers it, tracing my pussy lips, and I tense, expecting him to push it inside me. He parts my lips with his fingers, runs the egg along my slit. I’m already soaking wet, and he smirks as the egg slides easily along my slit, back and forth, both of our hands moving with it.
“You want to come for me, don’t you, my sweet little virgin?”
I grit my teeth and shake my head.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He slides the egg higher. The very edge of it skims my clit, and I can’t help gasping, my hips bucking against the bed. “Did you say you don’t want to come?”