Chapter Thirteen
SHAY
The way Rayne looked at me scared me. His presence screamed possession in a way that Arin used to when he looked at me—especially around other people.
I’ve only just met Colin; he arrived a couple of days ago and is trying to adjust. I wouldn’t have talked to him, but all the other tables were full, so I had to sit somewhere to eat breakfast.
When I asked if I could sit with him, he agreed and seemed friendly enough. He too doesn’t like to eat much, but his new therapist set rules to make sure he does—just like Rayne did to me. We connected in that way, and it was nice to finally talk to someone else.
I was surprised to hear Rayne stomping towards us with a look of hate on his face. I’ve never seen him like that before, but it wasn’t hate towards me; it was towards Colin. We both looked at one another, and I excused myself to head upstairs to our therapy room.
I felt cold, so I went back to my room first to grab a sweater.
The weather is a bit cooler this morning, and I’m used to wearing dresses and tank tops.
Well, that’s all I really have in the suitcase I was given when I arrived here.
Since I never really left the house in recent years, I didn’t have to ‘dress for the weather’.
I’ll have to go shopping for more weather-appropriate clothes when I leave here. As I walk up the stairs, I think about all the things I’ll have to buy to furnish a new place, all by myself. I wonder how much money Arin left me, and I hope it’s enough for a small place.
I shudder at the thought of having to get a job. What am I going to do for work? My last job was serving at a local restaurant, and that was so many years ago. I don’t have any useful skills, a degree, or any recent work experience. What place is going to hire me? I’m fucked.
A wave of sadness rushes over me by the time I get to our room.
It makes me not want to open the door and face Rayne; I just know he’ll be upset with me, and I don’t know how to deal with it.
My stomach sours the moment I open the door and see him sitting on the couch on his computer.
He doesn’t even make eye contact with me as I enter the room.
Something is different: the desk is gone, and so is the bookshelf. There is a bed on the other side of the room with two sets of sheets sitting on it.
“Make the bed. You have two choices of color.” His voice is deep; not caring or comforting like before. He makes his command, and my body complies, immediately walking toward the bed and choosing how to dress it. I chose the light pink color, not saying a word as I worked.
My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes, and I quietly sob. I feel so helpless that the only thing that feels right is being told what to do. That hearing a man give a command makes me instantly do what I’m told. I know it’s not right, but it’s all I know.
Maybe finding work won’t be so bad since I’m good at following instructions.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’m fucking worthless—no one in their right mind would hire someone like me.
All I’m good for is being someone’s dirty secret, hidden away only to be used when needed.
Even Arin killed himself to get away from me. That was his way of discarding me.
As soon as the bed is made, I slip off my shoes and crawl into it, facing the wall. Curling up in a fetal position brings me comfort because it reminds me of the first few years I was with Arin. Whenever I was afraid or sad, I would curl up and comfort myself.
“What are you doing? It’s not time to go to sleep.” I don’t answer. My body responds by shivering, but I’m not cold. I’m afraid. Afraid that he is upset with me and that I’ve disappointed him. I want to vomit.
“Shay. Come here, Little One.” I heard his laptop close, but I stayed put. If I move, I might empty my stomach of what I had for breakfast. And I don’t want to do that in front of him. I just want to run and hide in the bathroom. He’s walking towards me, and I want to hide in my skin.
“Shay,” his voice is right above me now. “I don’t enjoy repeating myself. You should know better than to ignore my commands. Now, get up.”
“I don’t feel well.” I groan against my knees.
“You’re fine. Get up and lie down on the couch. We need to talk.”
I sigh and roll over. His arms are crossed, and he’s staring down at me.
Not with the same hatred or possessiveness he had earlier, though.
His eyes are softer, but he’s right. I know better and should respond immediately instead of being bratty.
So I do as I’m told; I get up and shuffle over to the couch, while my stomach flips, and I try to hold down my breakfast.
“Are you going to check on your plants today? Or just ignore them until they die?”
I want to ignore him, but I can’t. My body won’t let me.
Before I can think twice, I get up again and check the soil on the plants.
I don’t even know what plants these are; maybe I can use his computer to check how to best take care of them.
All I know is that if I water them more than they need, I’ll end up killing them anyway.
The soil is a touch dry, so I take the water carafe off the coffee station and pour some water on the plants by the window.
Even though it’s cool out, the sun shining through is warm and soothing.
I feel Rayne watching me from behind, not saying a word, only observing.
Today is the first time he’s been more controlling.
And I like it.
The day went by in slow motion, and I’m emotionally spent.
We talked a lot today about the future, my wants and needs.
I have built up frustration, but can’t seem to release it.
I find myself looking at Rayne’s lips, his arms, and wandering down below his belt line.
My mind keeps dreaming up these scenarios where we kiss, his hands run up and down my body while he caresses me, and he takes me to the bed in our therapy room.
While I was taking a shower, I touched myself for the first time since I left the mansion.
I just couldn’t stop thinking about him, but I couldn’t get myself to finish.
Frustrated, I finished my shower, and as I was walking out in a towel, Rayne walked into the bathroom.
He was shirtless and sweaty. What was he doing?
I think I stared at his tattooed chest a little longer than I should have before moving out of the way.
Luckily, he said nothing. I don’t know what I would have said to him, anyway.
The nights are getting warm, so I open the window to get some fresh air.
I don’t feel like wearing anything to bed tonight.
All of my nightgowns are heavy and suffocating.
Plus, they remind me of being in my room at the mansion—I want to move away from that as much as I can.
It would be more comfortable to just be naked.
I get into bed while still wearing my towel wrapped around my body, and I write in my journal.
As soon as the pen hits the paper, I pour out all of my pent-up frustrations, fears, and inappropriate thoughts, knowing he’ll be reading them.
Maybe that’ll be a good way to get him to discuss the whole sex thing.
During meals, I can hear the other patients talk about “sessions” with their therapists, and they differ from mine with Rayne.
I feel like he doesn’t want me in that way, or he’s afraid he might hurt me.
As the bottom of the bed dips, I notice Rayne sitting there watching me, and my thoughts drift away.
I just noticed that my towel has come undone, exposing my breasts. I stare up at him in horror, but I don’t make a move to cover myself as he gives me a coy smile. His pants were tented up between his legs, making me let out a light chuckle.
Come on, Shay. He is a man after all, and this is what you’ve been wanting for a while. I can’t deny my feelings towards him anymore. His response was natural, but does he really want me in the same way I want him?
RAYNE
I lick my lips when I see Shay’s bare chest; my body responds naturally—only this time I don’t hide or fight what it’s doing.
We stare at one another for a few moments before I reach over and pull the rest of the towel away from her beautiful body.
She makes no move to stop me, but she still looks like a deer in headlights.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” My eyes roamed over her pale fawn skin. Her arms have a little more color from sitting outside in the sun, but you can tell she has been indoors for many years. Sitting. Waiting. In need of an authentic touch.
“No…” she whispered as she bit her lower lip.
Her eyes are not on my face, but on my cock that’s suffocating in these damn sweatpants.
I’ve never done anything like this outside of the therapy rooms, but I can’t help myself.
I want her here and now. Only I won’t be the one making demands tonight.
She will be in full control; instead of being someone’s plaything, she will be a human in control of her desires with me.
“Tell me what you want, Shay.” Her eyes immediately go to the journal that is still in her hands. “Did you write something down?” She nods her head, but says nothing. I don’t want to read what she wrote right now; I want her to tell me what she wants.
“Do you remember our rule about using your voice to answer questions?” I growl.
“Yes.”
“Then tell me what you want.”
“I—want to be with you.” She barely makes eye contact, and I can see shame on her face.
“Good girl. Now, was that so hard?” I reach over to take her hand in mine.
“Yes…yes, it was. I’ve never told a man that before.”
“Well, I’m more than happy to be the first man who won’t control you.
I’m yours to have for the night. Don’t be shy.
” I stand and take off my sweatpants before sitting back down on the bed and leaning back.
My cock is rock hard, and the tip is gleaming with pre-come from looking at her full breasts.
I can’t quite see her pussy from the way she has her legs folded together, but I can see some hair peeking through. Fuuck, I love a girl with a bush.
Shay shrugs before crossing her arms to cover herself and lowering her eyes to the bed. “Don’t cover yourself, Shay. There is nothing wrong with what you want. As you can see, I want the same thing.”
“I’ve never been in control before.” She whispers to herself.
I climbed up the bed to sit beside her. I want to touch her, taste her, and feel her on me, but I will let her do it all on her own.
I take the journal out of her lap and set it on the nightstand beside me.
She finally leans against my side, and I put my arm around her.
Not to pressure her—but to reassure her.
Before I can even blink, she is straddling my thighs, her warm pussy hovering over my hard cock.
My hands go to her waist, and I have her sit on me; the soft hair between her legs tickles me, but I don’t mind.
It’s warm and inviting. I just want to thrust into her, but I don’t dare move.
My eyes don’t leave her beautiful face as she traces the tattooed lines on my chest.
I let my hands wander over her back, her ass, and to her breasts.
She doesn’t stop me or shy away from my touch; instead, her soft little hands caress my face as she finally leans down and gently kisses my lips.
I’m in heaven. Her kiss is so sweet and perfect; I have to fight my body from doing what it wants to do: taste every bit of her perfect body and claim her as mine all night long.
I slide my tongue against her lips, and she invites me in.
The sound of our moans filled the room. Her hips slowly grind against me, teasing my cock repeatedly.
Before I can stop myself, I turn her over onto her back, her head lying on the pillows.
Instead of a frightened or surprised look on her face, I see a beautiful, coy smile.
“What would you like me to do, baby girl?” I say against her soft skin.
“I want to taste you,” she whispered. Mmm, I want the same thing.
“Deal, but I want the same thing. I’ve been dying to taste you, Shay.” I lay on my back and felt surprised when she placed her hairy pussy in my face and stroked my cock.
“There. Now we both get what we want.”
I chuckled at her comment. Good girl. I certainly won’t complain; not when I have a perfect meal in front of me.
Instead of going slow with her, I take hold of her hips, lower them until her flesh is against my face, and my tongue slowly learns every part of her.
I’m so focused on tasting every bit of her that I almost lose myself when the warmth of her tongue touches the head of my cock.
My moans against her soaked pussy make her take more of me in her mouth while her hands stroke what she can’t take in.
She’s perfect and drives me wild. I smack her ass, making her yelp, and use my thumb to tease her tight entrance.
God, I can’t wait until I fill her up with my cock—if she’ll let me.
I focus on her clit as she grinds against my face—using me to get off.
I have to concentrate on her pleasure instead of mine before I bust. “Sit up, Shay.” Her hands use my torso and chest to sit up while still grinding against me.
Instead of using my thumb, I use my index finger—she clenches against my finger—she’s getting closer, so I insert another finger.
“Oh, fuck, Daddy!” She screams as her fingernails bite into my chest, and she shudders above me. I use the opportunity to suck my fingers clean and lap up every bit of her come, but it’s not enough. I want to feel her come on my dick.
I give her a moment to catch her breath before laying her down on her back as my cock throbs for her.
I kiss her hard and let her taste herself on my lips and tongue.
The tip of my cock slides up and down her slit, teasing her and myself.
I want to take my time kissing, touching, and making her feel good.
Let her feel like she’s in control fully, but she wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me inside of her.
We both gasp at the same time, and I don’t move for a second to catch my own breath. She takes me fully, and it’s like we’re meant to be. Before my instincts take over, I stop. “Do you remember our safe word?”
“Yes,” she responds immediately.
“Good girl. Use it if I go too far.” But she never did. We took turns getting each other off, but she stayed in control the entire time.