I can’t even finish my sentence because he immediately steps out of the tub, clutching me with one arm as the other grabs a towel hanging from the Hook. He drapes it over us, softly caressing my skin before waltzing out of the bathroom and straight toward the bedroom.
“But we’re still wet,” I say.
“So?” he retorts. He places me down on the pillow, his dick still nestled inside as though he wants to stay there. And something about the way he scooped me up and placed me down on the pillow, then curled up beside me, dragging me toward him in a possessive manner, makes my whole body heat.
“Hmm …” he groans. “There isnothingbetter than this.”
Now I’m blushing even more. “Nothing?”
“No,” he says. “Not even sex.”
I gasp and laugh at the same time. “That’s hard to believe, coming from you.”
He snorts, and his dick briefly pulses inside me, reminding me of his hold over me and just how much I enjoy being the object of his desires.
“You’ve always seemed so … sexual to me.” Just saying it out loud makes me rub my lips together like I’m saying something dirty.
“There’s more to me than just sex,” he replies.
I turn my head. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to imply there wasn’t. I just—”
He places a finger on my lips. “No more sorry.”
After a while, I nod.
“Good girl.”
Oh God. When he says it like that, it makes me want to do literally anything and everything he demands. No questions asked.
“You want to know about me? Ask,” he says.
I ponder it over for a moment. “But I don’t even know where to start. There’s so much I don’t know.” I try to shift around, but his cock is still firmly lodged inside me, making me viscerally aware of how much of my body I have given him.
To this man who swooped into my life and stole it away just for the sake of freedom.
Something that should be so cruel, yet I have nothing but intense compassion for him.
I slowly twist around.
“Wait,” he says, and I stop.
His eyes close. “I don’t want to stop feeling you,” he groans.
The blush spreads all over my face now. “I won’t pull it out.”
After a few seconds, he nods, and I complete my spin around until I’m face-to-face with him, his dick still throbbing against my walls. Like an always-present reminder of his obsession with me.
My hand slides across the scars on his body and the one on his face. My finger gently traces each line, watching his every move so I don’t aggravate him.
“Do they still hurt?”
He shakes his head.
“How did you get these?” I ask.
“A long time ago. From my trainer.” He places his hand over mine, tracing the line of the gnarly-looking scar that runs all the way over his face. “This one.”
I gulp. “Why? Why would your trainer do this to you?”