“Remove all your clothes and lie on your stomach on the bed.”
I halt in my tracks and my head whirls back. “What?”
“You heard me.” Both his voice and posture are calm, composed, as if he planned this all along. “Not one piece of clothing.”
“Why would I do that?”
His only reply is a smirk before he strides to the guest room where he keeps some of his stuff.
I’m tempted to follow him and demand answers, but my mind is in too much turmoil for that.
With a shaky breath, I go into my room.
I’m not going to do what he says. He doesn’t get to tell me what to do.
Doesn’t he, though? His autho
ritative, controlling ways always have me bending to his will and enjoying it in sick, deranged ways.
My phone vibrates in my bag, and the sudden sound nearly makes me jump. Shit. He put me in an overstimulated state without even touching me.
I check my phone and find a text from him.
Asher: Five minutes.
No.
No, no.
This…this is too similar to Old Reina’s affair with Cloud003. All too similar.
Maybe Asher read the messages. Maybe he knows about the affair? Is this a punishment for that?
My phone vibrates again and I nearly drop it.
Asher: Four.
I throw the phone and bag on the chair and lift the hem of my T-shirt, yanking it off over my head. My jeans follow next, then my flats.
As I stand in the middle of my room in nothing by my bra and panties, my chest rises and falls with sharp breaths. My legs tremble so hard, I’m surprised my lungs don’t give up on me. My hair is still damp from the shower I took back at campus. The scent of my lilac shampoo becomes tenfold stronger until it’s the only thing I can smell.
My phone vibrates on the chair and I jerk before releasing a shaky breath.
Fuck.
This is worse than being in an adrenaline wave. It’s like constant stimulation with no way of release.
Asher: One.
Three minutes have passed already?
Cursing under my breath, I unhook my bra and slide my panties down my legs. A tremor possesses my fingers as my underwear joins my clothes on the floor.
I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling, resisting the urge to pull the covers up and hide my nudity.
Yes, Asher has seen me naked before, but it’s the first time he’s ordered me ever so bluntly to get nude. And to my fucking dismay, arousal coats my thighs. He hasn’t even put his hands on me yet, but I haven’t ever felt as turned on as I do right now.
I rub my thighs together to alleviate the tension, but that only makes it worse, more aching, more unreachable.