Chapter 23
Victoria
Two mornings later, I stare at the ceiling, wondering how I got here. Not just here in this mansion, but here in this life. I’ve been here four days. It seems longer. It seems like months or years.
My life is surreal. I don’t recognize it.
My life has always been weird. I’ve never felt like I fit in anywhere. Or I don’t remember a time when I did. Maybe I was a normal kid before my mom died. Maybe I was even sort of normal after my dad remarried.
I’m pretty sure my stepmother was always…odd. I don’t think she liked me much. Or she didn’t want a kid. She tolerated me. She didn’t play with me or hug me or arrange playdates or take me to the park. I was just living.
I didn’t really have friends. She didn’t tell me I couldn’t, but she didn’t encourage it. I never asked for anyone to come over to play or sleep over. It wasn’t a conscious thing, but I was always sort of embarrassed by my stepmom. She wasn’t like the other moms. I didn’t want anyone to meet her.
That made me a weird kid. I didn’t accept invitations to birthday parties or go to after-school activities. I went to classes, worked hard on my grades, and never got into trouble.
College was better, but I was still awkward. Like I was watching the world around me. Out of body. Floating. A witness.
And then I met Blaze. Something clicks with him. I fit in, not just with Blaze, but with his entire family. They treat me like I’m one of them. No one acts like I’m strange.
Dinners are my favorite part of every day. The twelve of us talk over each other, laugh, and share about our lives. I always feel warm and fuzzy after dinner. I suspect I’ll feel even more connected once I can actually walk on my own and move around the house. Interact with everyone.
Yesterday was busy. I slept a lot. My leg was a bit swollen in the morning—according to Blaze—and he made me stay in bed most of the day, propping my calf high and waiting on me hand and foot.
In between, I know he was talking to his private investigator and his lawyer. He hasn’t updated me on anything he’s learned yet. I don’t think he will lie or keep things from me, so I suspect he simply doesn’t know much.
Now it’s morning. I’m done sleeping. I can’t do that for another day. I hope he doesn’t make me. My leg doesn’t hurt at all. It looks much better, too. I know because I pulled the covers back and sat up long enough to make sure.
I’m flat again, though, waiting for Blaze.
I think he went for a run. He does that early every morning.
Either that or he’s working out downstairs in the weight room his cousins put in.
He’ll be back soon. I just need to wait.
If I dare to move, he’ll… I don’t know what he’ll do yet.
I haven’t defied him much since he put his foot down.
But I need to pee…
The pressure is growing by the minute.
I stare at the door, biting my lip, wondering how much longer I can wait.
When the door finally opens, I blow out a relieved breath and push onto my elbows, wincing.
Blaze rushes across the room. “What’s wrong? Does your leg hurt?”
“No. I need to pee.”
“Ah. Sorry.” He pulls the covers back from my nearly naked body, scoops me up, and hurries into the bathroom.
When he stands me on one leg in front of the toilet, I grab his shoulders and hold on while he pulls my panties down, letting them fall off my lifted foot.
It doesn’t faze me nearly as much for him to see me naked or take care of me so intimately anymore.
At first I was embarrassed, but I’m getting used to it.
He grabs my hips and lowers me to the toilet.
Instead of leaving me to pee like he usually does, he remains squatted in front of me.
“Keep your hands on my shoulders, baby. Spread your legs.” His voice…
It’s so… I don’t have the words. Authoritative?
Soft and gentle at the same time, though.
He isn’t asking me. He’s demanding it. I know that tone. This is an order.
“I don’t need help peeing, Blaze,” I mumble.
He sets his hands on my thighs and parts them for me. “There will be a million things in life you won’t need help doing. That doesn’t mean I won’t step in and do them for you.”
“You can’t pee for me,” I argue. I’m pushing him. Curiosity is driving me.
“Let me take care of you, Victoria.” His gaze is on mine, but his hands move higher on my thighs and push them wider. “When you submit to me, it fuels my soul, but it also fuels yours.”
He’s right. I’m choked up by the seriousness of this moment. It’s pivotal. We have a lot of those. Strange pauses when we both stare at each other, knowing we’re clicking on yet another level.
This thing between us is so deep. It’s like we’re being sucked under quicksand, but we’re together, and we don’t fight it. We let it consume us.
Every time he stares into my eyes and asserts his authority, I melt a little more. I’m not the same person I was before I met him. Maybe I should be scared or fight this, but I can’t. It feels like home.
Growing up, I lived in a house. In college, I lived in the dorm. But I’ve never been home.
“Give yourself to me, Victoria,” he encourages. He’s not talking about just peeing. He’s asking me to be his in every way. We’ve known each other such a short time, yet I want to say yes. I’m drawn to stop fighting against the bizarre dynamic of our relationship and just accept it.
“It’s not about peeing, baby. It’s about submission.
It’s about letting me see your most vulnerable parts.
I’m going to be between your legs when there’s blood sometimes, too.
It may always embarrass you to some extent, but you’ll let me take care of you intimately because you need to submit to me. ”
He strokes my inner thighs.
Relaxing my bladder, I empty it. I’m breathing heavily when I’m done, not because I used a lot of exertion to pee, but because the moment feels much bigger than that.
“Good girl.” Blaze reaches for the toilet paper, pulls some off, and wipes between my legs. He brushes his lips against my forehead before standing, his hands at my waist, lifting me with him. “Careful steps, baby,” he says.
I’m surprised. He’s letting me hobble toward the sink. His hands are on my hips, steadying me, but this is huge.
Surrounding me from behind, he wraps his arms around me, turns on the water, and pumps soap onto his palm. He washes both sets of hands with his. It’s intimate. I’m panting.
I’m also naked.
“How does your leg feel, baby?” He kisses my shoulder as he dries our hands.
“Tight. It doesn’t hurt, though.”
“Baby steps, okay? Don’t send me into a panic.”
I giggle. “Yes, Sir.”
He spins me around, grabs my face, and kisses me. “I fucking love it when you call me Sir.”
I’m still smiling. “It’s growing on me.” I shrug. I’m joking. I love it, too. He knows it. “Why do you get to cuss and I don’t?”
He smirks. “Because I’m in charge, and I make the rules.”
I roll my eyes.
“That sassy attitude will land you in trouble, naughty girl.”
I chuckle. “I’m starving. Are you going to dress and feed me?”
“Yep, but first you’re going to feed me.” He bends, presses his shoulder into my stomach, and lifts me into the air.
I squeal. “Blaze!”
After a few long strides, he lowers me onto the bed sideways. “Knees bent. Legs open.”
Wetness leaks out of me. I’ve gone from zero to ten in seconds.
Although, I guess I wasn’t at a zero to begin with.
I moved to a two when he stepped into the room, a three when he carried me to the bathroom, a four when he removed my panties, a five when he spread my thighs, a six when I peed for him, a seven when he intimately washed my hands, and an eight when I called him Sir. So ten wasn’t a giant leap.
Before I can catch my breath, his hands are on my inner thighs, and his mouth is on my pussy. I cry out because he sucks hard and fast, flicking his tongue over my clit and tormenting it with his teeth. My eyes roll back as sensations overwhelm me, and I come embarrassingly fast.
I’m moaning in the aftermath of my orgasm when Blaze tugs my pubic hair. “I’m going to shave this.”
I gasp, sucking in oxygen.
He stands and hurries from the room, reentering the bathroom.
I stare at the open doorway, trying to process his intentions. I know lots of women shave their pubic hair. Some use wax. Some use a dissolvable solution. But I’ve never known anyone to let their man do it for them.
When he returns with a razor, a cup of water, shaving cream, and a towel, I’m freaking out.
“Why?” I ask, trembling. I haven’t closed my legs, but I’ve come onto my elbows.
“Because I want to feel your smooth pussy against my beard.”
“What if you cut me?” This is nerve-wracking.
“I won’t, baby. I’ll be super careful.” He tucks the towel under the edge of my ass. “Hold your legs open wide for me, and don’t move.” He’s not asking. He’s simply made a decision about my body.
I don’t mind having my pubic hair removed. It would grow back in a week if… Well, I doubt he’ll allow that, but it could.
I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling, panting. My mind is spinning. Everything happens so fast with Blaze. He only entered the room ten minutes ago, and he’s watched me pee, eaten me out, and spread me open to shave my pussy.
Biting my lip, I try not to moan while he spreads shaving cream all over my mons.
With one hand, he holds my folds tight. With the other, he drags the razor slowly over my skin. Thank goodness he can’t see how much wetness is leaking out of me. This is so arousing, it’s madness. I just came a minute ago, for heaven’s sake.
He takes his time, dragging this out, shaving every bit of me over and over as if he keeps missing a spot. I think he just enjoys the sensuality of it. So do I.
Finally, he’s done. He sets the cup and razor on the nightstand and wipes my folds with the towel. “So fucking sexy,” he mumbles. Before I have a chance to lift to see the results, he brings his cheek to my pussy and rubs his beard against it.
Fuck me. That feels nice. I’m going to be ten times more sensitive now, which means ten times more horny. Great.
Blaze turns his face, kisses my pussy, and then stands. “Don’t move while I shower, baby. Then we’ll get dressed and go down to breakfast.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He smiles. He doesn’t leave. He simply stares at me, grinning. When he eventually swallows, he slides his gaze up my body to my face and says, “I’m in love with you.”
My breath hitches. Before I can respond, he turns and flees the room. He doesn’t shut the door. He never does. The shower comes on. I see his naked form as he moves from the hamper toward the enclosure. I’m still dumbfounded by that bombshell.
“I’m in love with you, too,” I whisper.