“Pain.” His strong voice echoes around my dizzy head like a sinister, dark promise. “That’s what you need, Aurora. Lucky for you, I have plenty to give.”
15
Aurora
Second thoughts.
A vile way in which your brain plants the seed so you’ll suspect everything you do.
Last night, I was so sure I could take on Jonathan’s offer and unveil the truth behind Alicia’s death.
Then he lay me on his lap, spanked me, and thrust his fingers into me.
I orgasmed.
I fucking orgasmed.
Not being able to feel for such a long time has made me sure and even smug about my defectiveness. And yet, it happened. I felt. And it was in the most brutal way possible.
Leaning back against my chair, I close my eyes and try not to think about his hand, his fingers and how, when I finally go
t off his lap, I stumbled and nearly fell to my face.
Jonathan’s lips set in a line as he watched me with those steel eyes that I’m now sure know no emotions whatsoever. The man is a blank board. He’s a tyrant, and like any tyrant, only his benefit matters.
‘I expect you here when I return from work.’
His parting words kept playing on repeat at the back of my mind during the entire drive home, then when I climbed under the covers and absentmindedly looked at the occasional memes Layla sent me.
I wasn’t able to sleep.
I couldn’t.
It’s more than the soreness in my arse or the dark foreboding that comes every time I recall the ferocity of his slaps or how disastrously I reacted to them.
The moment I close my eyes, all I think about is the feel of his strong hand on my arse, or the sound my arousal made when he savagely pounded into me. To my horror, it’s not feelings of humiliation or vulnerability, it’s the acute lust, the flooding pleasure, the —
“Mate!”
I startle, and when my eyes open, I find Layla perching over me and waving her hands in front of my face. “There you are. Were you napping? And why do your cheeks look as red as a football player after playing the championship game?”
Standing up, I take her hand in mine.
Layla’s eyes turn as wide as saucers. “No, nope. You already used your hug for the week.”
“I need to talk to you.” I lead her to the sofa and sit her so we’re facing each other.
“Damn straight you do. I need deets. Did you throw Johnny’s offer back at his face? What did it look like? Did his arrogant nose commit suicide? Ugh. I wish you’d caught it on camera.”
“I accepted it, Lay.”
“Wait — and I mean this in the most buggered off way — what?”
Yesterday, when I remained silent, Layla assumed we’d go with her plan and flip Jonathan the bird.
“I want to do it. It’s the only peaceful and uncomplicated way to get the ownership back.”
“Mate…” Aurora’s eyes fill with tears. My best friend doesn’t cry. She thinks it’s beneath her ‘street-made’ status. “I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself like that.”