Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
“Mm, okay. We can talk later. We need to have a chat, actually. Can’t put off the heavy discussions indefinitely, but right now I’m quite happy to focus on your gratitude.”
The idea of a chat freaked me out. Was it about us? Was it about my parents? Was there some shoe about to drop that would overwhelm me even more than I was overwhelmed already? I needed to push everything negative in my head away right now. I didn’t want to give him any sort of negative vibe. I didn’t want any stress putting a black mark on today. And if he was stressed about that phone call, I needed to try to erase it.
I was thoughtful for a second. “I’m not only grateful for my awesome pink laptop.” I kissed his earlobe.
“Mm,” he replied, cupping my bottom with both hands.
“I’m grateful for it and…” I said.
“And?”
My fingers threaded into his hair, “And the lovely jewelry you bought me while we were away.”
“Mm hm.” He squeezed my rear end, and I could feel him bulging beneath me.
“That you couldn’t bear to leave me here while you were away because you’d miss me.” I kissed his neck again.
“True story.”
“And I’m grateful that you love me,” I whispered against his collarbone and then kissed the top of his chest, where his shirt was unbuttoned.
I heard a sharp intake of breath. Now his hands were in my hair.
“Why are you grateful for that?” he whispered.
In my mind the thought flashed that if he didn’t love me and was who he was with me without that emotion it’d be intolerable but there was more. So much more. So much that I couldn’t even articulate to him. That this beautiful, fucked up, powerful man wanted to spend his life with me, that he wanted me to have all sides of him, that there were things he wanted from me and things he needed from me, that he had pledged to be with only me. That he’d put the huge burden of giving him everything he needed on me, that he would put himself in the path of bullets for me. That he would give me everything he could to make me happy and fulfilled because I was his. And that he was so remorseful for hurting me; it was everything.
I looked in his eyes. “Because it’s you. My dream guy. And it means I get to be yours.”
The heat that flickered in his eyes lit my blood on fire. Yes, he made it my job to be his, whatever that entailed. The realization that I wanted that job was more than a realization; it was a revelation. I knew in my head it was crazy, but yet it made sense for me.
Submitting to him was freeing. No more fighting, stressing, worrying about freedom. There was actual freedom in this. He’d love me, he’d protect me. And I didn’t have to change who I was to be what he wanted because he kept telling me I was perfect. If I could harness that power I had to keep him sweet most of the time, and to make the rough sex a game instead of letting it get out of control, I could do this.
I’d learn how to do this, and the rewards would be the bliss I got when I let go and it’d keep him sweet enough. Not just orgasms but this peace that I’d found came over me in those moments after I gave in but before I let my mind beat myself up because I’d given in. I wouldn’t have to beat myself up anymore. I’d have more bliss than pain. And when I got pain, I’d use it to release the shit in my head that was trapped there. I’d purge that crap one game at a time.
Funny how I suddenly felt like bliss could come from pain. Funny how meeting him changed my life in a heartbeat and funny that being with someone for just three weeks could change my whole outlook, my whole way of thinking.
“I feel like a very lucky girl, today. The casino, the laptop, you…”
“I’m the lucky one, baby girl.”
There seemed to be so much sincerity in his voice, on his face, that I felt like I was going to burst into tears. I didn’t. Instead, I climbed off his lap and got on my knees on the floor in between his legs and fumbled to undo the buttons on his jeans. I reached into his underwear and pulled his cock out. He made a hissing sound and arched a little. I looked up at his face and he was staring intensely at me, baring his teeth a little, his shoulders all tense.
I moved toward him, and the tip of my tongue touched his cock, but then there was laughter outside.