“All of you.”
“You’re a bad negotiator.”
“How so? I got what I wanted.”
“And I got more.”
She did. She got a lot more. She got my face buried in her cunt. She got me on my knees, worshiping her. She doesn’t know what she’s got yet, because fuck—I don’t even know.
“May I make a request?” She bites that pouty lip of hers between her teeth.
“I’ll give you as many orgasms as you want if you keep making those addictive, throaty sounds of yours.”
“Um, I was thinking a bra—”
“No—never.”
“Not even when we leave town and go to that place? Your group.”
I frown, knowing full well that one day Remi will hate me. That didn’t matter so much before, and maybe it won’t, but right now, as I sit with her, seeing how fucking beautiful she is covered in my scent and sweat, I can’t fucking deal.
I cup her breast. “These belong to me, and if I decide they need covering, I’ll tell you.”
Her face skews in anger. It’s adorable, and I fill her mouth with my tongue again, loving that I can taste her cunt all over her.
I’m fucking exhausted. It’s time we rest.
She crawls into bed, moving far over, giving me room to lie down.
“That’s not how this plays out, Little Lamb.”
“What do you mean?”
“The fucking is good. Exactly what I need. But don’t mistake it for anything else. You’re nothing but a toy. A perky, tight little sex toy that loves to have her pussy eaten and to please her monster.”
Her face falls. “This isn’t your room, is it?”
“It’s yours.” I pull two MREs from the chest and throw them on the desk.
“Where do you sleep?”
“Somewhere else.”
She’s sad. Good. Soon, she’ll hate me, and it’s better that it starts with disappointment. So the fall doesn’t crush her.
I get dressed and collect the clothes strewn around the room. “And no more of these.”
“You can’t take my clothes away?”
“What good is a sex toy if it’s inaccessible?”
She’s offended. Also good. I like her mad just as much as I do horny, because in the short time I’ve known her, I’ve discovered that to Remi: mad = horny. It’s practically a scientific fact.
I grab some ointment and see to her wrist as she casts daggers at me with her gaze. Luckily, they should heal well and infection can be easily avoided as long as the cuts are tended to.
“Good night, Little Lamb.”
“You can fuck the hell off!”
I chuckle as I grab the radio and cut out. I like how spunky she is. And how, while she does comply, she does not cower.
But now I have to see how the fucker in the other room is doing. The one who dared put my Little Lamb’s life in danger.
The man whose days are numbered.
Sometime soon, I’ll take Remi to see him. When she’s grown to feel safe and let her guard down.
So I can remind her of what I truly am.