I shouldn't have gone into her room at all.
This was never meant to happen.
I lost every thread of self-control, threw caution to the wind, and allowed desire and lust to drag me down a path I didn't want to take.
Curling my fingers into my hair, I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut as I continue listening to her sobs, allowing them to crash through my body, tearing my insides apart.
I deserve to feel like shit.
I left her there, chained to the bed like a fucking animal, lying in my cum, and still half naked because I didn't have the decency to clean her up or help her with her shorts.
Guilt swarms me, and bile threatens to escape. I swallow thickly and bash my knuckles against my forehead.
I'm a complete arsehole, and I can't blame her if she also shares that opinion of me, especially after the events that have just taken place.
I can't even sit here and bask in the aftermath of what occurred.
I won't allow myself to think about how tight she was as I slipped my fingers inside her, or how incredible she tasted on my tongue, or the way she was rocking her hips against me while pushing my face deeper into her pussy, equally as desperate as I was for a release.
Unfortunately, I've tainted the one positive memory we now share, and although I'm disgusted with myself for it, I can't help but think it might work in my favour.
I needed to keep her at arm's length, and I don't want her knowing how much of an effect she has on me, so I just have to hope leaving her like that—alone and probably confused, after devouring her pussy as if it was my last meal—will put a big enough wedge between us.
While I try to rationalize my actions, I sit outside her room for hours, torturing myself with the sounds of her upset, allowing each hiccup and sob to pierce through my chest and batter against my already aching heart.
A few stray tears fall from my own eyes as guilt eats away at me, and I war with myself, wanting to check on her and apologise, but knowing it's best if I don't. So, I remain sitting here, staring down at my lap, even after her cries finally stop.
Because I can't bear to tear myself away just yet.
Morning light filters through the apartment, burning my tired eyes.
Checking my watch and seeing it's almost seven in the morning, I huff, lifting myself from the floor and stretching out my aching limbs before trudging towards my own bedroom, sluggishly moving through my usual routine, getting ready for the day ahead.
When I make my way downstairs, the tan monster who seems to love harassing me jumps off the sofa, following me through to the kitchen, and munches on her food as I make myself a cup of coffee.
As I finish and put my cup in the sink, she decides she's done, too, and moves over to me. Yapping loudly, she jumps around my ankles before running off and coming back a moment later with her lead captured in her mouth.
Sighing, I accept my fate and take the lead from her, clipping it to her collar.
Walking towards the elevator with her trotting along by my side, I pull my phone from my pocket and call Leo as I slip my shoes on.
"What?" he asks in his usual gruff tone, answering after a few rings.
"I'm going to need you back here tomorrow," I tell him, stepping into the elevator and lifting Jellybean into my arms, shaking my head at myself for being so observant and realising the little creature doesn't like being on the floor of the metal box when it's moving.
"Back for what exactly? More babysitting duties?"
"Yes. I'm going back to the office. Percy will be coming with me. Charlie's busy for the next couple of days, clearing out a few of the warehouses and helping Jaylen with the plans at the marina, so I'm appointing you to keep an eye on my wife, and I'm trusting this time, you'll do as I ask when it comes to her."
He chuckles. "I don't do well with being told what to do, Dominic."
"You managed to with Jericho," I spit, walking out of the elevator once the doors open, putting the dog down and moving swiftly through the lobby and out onto the street.
"Jericho knew not to use me for things I had no interest in."
"You seemed to have a lot of interest in my wife previously," I retort.
"And as far as I recall, you weren't happy with that… if you want me to take an interest in her again, then I'm welcome to try, but—"
