48. What I'm owed

Erica

It’s been two days since the lunch in the dining room where he feasted on my pussy and made me scream his name as I came apart, and that was before he tortured my nîpples and made me come again without even touching my pûssy. He made it blatantly clear how his touch and the pain was enough to push me over the edge. And it made me mad at him. So mad that I had been avoiding him.

I didn’t know why I thought it would be easy to play his game. Because it hadn’t been a week since we struck the deal and I already wanted to fight him. Mouth off to him. Tell him where he could shove his orders and slap him across his ever gorgeous face. I didn’t know why I convinced myself that I could obey his demands without letting my unruly side fight me on every step, but I was starting to see how wrong I had been and also the craving for his touch was turning into an addiction. And I didn’t need a new one when I already had one which made me go looking for it in the dead of the night when only th