Chapter 7
I wanted her, I knew this. She’s the one rule that I’ve broken, and I did it for her. She hasn’t left my house for over a month, since that day in the bar. I told her to quit her job during an orgasm and she did, then I told her to move in with me when my mouth was between her legs and she did. I wonder what else I could get her to do for me? It's sort of become fun, a game if you will, to see what this beautiful woman would do for me. She was resilient at first, but she gave in quickly. I knew she would. It’s the way things work. I’ve had women at my beck and call all my life, but I don’t push them as far as I’ve pushed Bexley. She’s different, I like the way she looks at me, the way she sees me. Like I’m the air that she breathes.
“Out,” I say just as she steps in. I know it’s her by her quiet footsteps and the perfume that wafts through the air after her. I’m in the middle of a big deal. She cannot disturb me, I’ve told her this.
“I’m making a roast, when will you be done?” she asks standing at the door. I look up at her and she smiles.
“I don’t want a roast, I want turkey, and I will be done when I’m done. Now leave,” I say and turn back to my computer. See, what did I tell you, I like to push her. She’s spent all day in the kitchen. I could hear her banging pans and swearing. So I test her just a little bit further to see if she’ll do what I say. When I emerge a few hours later, there’s turkey on the table. I look up to her smiling face and go straight to bed. I hear her smash a plate in the sink. She’s pissed at me, but she’ll never tell me, only taking it out on inanimate objects. She comes in not long after. I’m scrolling through more emails on my phone. She strips naked and lays next to me, her hand touches my bare chest. I remove it and place my phone down and go to sleep.
I know what I’m doing to her is wrong, but I like it. It’s like my own guilty pleasure that only she can please. I will break her down.
The days pass by fast, and I’m hardly home. When I do arrive home, I fuck her into submission, and she does whatever I please. I’m a bit surprised that she’s letting me do this because I assumed she had more of a backbone. Maybe I was wrong, maybe this won’t last long after all.
She comes out dressed in a skirt and a very short shirt, one that sits just under her breast. Her cleavage is on display, and I instantly want to fuck them and come over her. She passes my office door like she does daily. This time I have a client, and he notices her and I can tell he likes what he sees. Dunker is a scary man, a dangerous man, to some. To me, he knows where he stands.
“She yours?” he asks as Bexley stops at the door to say something to Cora. She doesn’t like her, I can tell.
“You could say that,” I say eyeing her; her skirt situated on her tiny hips. Her ass is luscious and gives volume to her skirt. When she turns, so Dunker can view her full on he wolf whistles and brings her attention to us. She blushes when she sees me, and smiles softly before walking to the door. She stops and smiles at Dunker though it’s reserved.
“You going out?” I ask, fully aware Dunk is eye fucking her, storing her in his memory bank.
“Yes,” she says and plays with the bag she’s holding.
“I need you in my room in five minutes, Bexley.” She knows my voice when it’s rough, I want her. She leaves without an argument, and I know she’ll be there waiting for me, doing as she’s told.
“Fuck, where do I find me one of them,” he says pointing to where Bexley was standing.
“Time for you to leave,” I say and stand. He follows, smirks and winks as he departs, knowing full well what I’m going to do to her, that I’m going to fuck her.
When I enter the bedroom she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands still twitching inside her bag. Her eyes look up at me and I’m mesmerized by her beauty, the same way I was the night I first saw her. She is truly beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Remove the top,” I tell her unbuttoning my pants and letting them drop to the floor. She hesitates for a second, unsure if she should test me. Eventually, she listens, though, and her top comes off easy with the zipper at the front.
“I want to fuck your tits,” I say palming my cock, stroking it. “Are you wet, Bexley?” I ask standing in front of her now. She looks up and nods, and she bites her lip. Wanting what I can give her, fucking her until she sees stars.
“Lean back on your hands, push your chest up.” She does and I bring both her tits together and lean down sucking on each nipple, paying close attention to each one. I grab the lube from the table next to the bed and lather myself up, then her tits. She shivers from the coldness when I apply it to her chest. I place my cock in the middle, squeezing her tits to suffocate around my cock. She leans forward and licks the top of my cock and I fuck harder, she repeats this a few times until I’m coming all over her, her skirt now ruined, with my evidence all over it.
“I have a rule, Bexley, think about this rule before you walk out that door tonight. You are mine. While you’re here, no one is to touch you. I am not yours, don’t think otherwise. But the rule…the rule I want you to remember is never ask for more. Don’t ask for more than what I can give you. If you do, you leave.” She stands in front of me, her mouth agape. Her eyes widen with shock.
“Why?” she asks leaning down for a towel and wiping her chest roughly while pulling her shirt on to cover her naked breasts.
“I give you what you need, Bexley, do I not? I give you a home, I give you money, and I give you orgasms like no one else can. That is all you will get. Do not expect more, or don’t come back.” I turn my back to her and walk into the shower. I hear her leave the bedroom not knowing if I will see her again. Probably not. I know she wants more, she’s made that quite clear in the past. But I’m a selfish bastard and need her, need my own desires met. They aren’t all met. I could keep her longer, use her longer than anyone else. She has that redeeming feature about her.
I scrub my face in the shower, my hands running along my jaw wondering what she will do, but trying to not to care. A person like me doesn’t care, shouldn’t care. I haven’t known her long, but I know every inch of her body. The way to make her scream, to make her happy, to make her sad.
A towel is wrapped around my hips when I enter the bedroom. Bexley is sitting on the bed, biting her fingernails. “Bexley,” I say, her eyes shoot to mine. She’s a bit more broken than she was before. Chip by chip she’s coming apart.
“I don’t want to want you,” she says her eyes dropping to her hands that are in her lap now, her leg shaking up and down in nervousness.
“I want what we have, but when I want more. I’m leaving you,” she says straightening her spine, sitting up like she actually believes what she’s saying. I smirk, knowing I get to keep playing with her longer. Keep all those pieces that I’m chipping away at.
“If you say so,” I say to her climbing into bed.
“I don’t need or want your money, Zeke, I don’t need or want any possessions. I have a lot of money, I just chose not to flaunt it,” she says, which surprises me.
“What are you talking about, Bexley”?
“I mean, the only reason I’m here is because of you. When I feel I can’t do this anymore, or that I’m less of a person than I’ve already have become, I’m gone. I know what you’re doing to me. You degrade me, chip pieces of me away. Though in actuality you don’t, you force me store everything you do in my memory. Waiting for it to explode, waiting for the time bomb I will unleash once it’s all too much. Don’t think for a second I won’t. I may think I love you, but there’s only so much one person can take. And then, I may ruin you,” she says and walks out the door, still dressed. Leaving me impressed and turned on by her words.
Who is this girl?