Silence.
He sighed, loud and satisfied.
The lighter clicked. Smoke filled my lungs.
“Turn around and lick my come off the floor.”
I swallowed hard and shuffled around. Thick white streaks stood out against the darker wood. He lifted his hand, cigarette glowing as he inhaled.
“Lick my dick clean next.”
Smoke curled around me as I stared at the splatter on the floor. I spread my hands and bent down, dragging my tongue along the wood.
I took my time.
Not because I enjoyed it.
But because I didn’t want him to see my tears.
???
I stood in the shower.
The water rained down on me.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t try to wash myself clean.
It wasn’t possible.
My eyes fixed on the perfect line between the tiles. On how the grout stayed so brilliantly white. Untouched.
In my flat, the bathroom grout was yellow. Cracked. Coming apart at the seams.
I wondered if anyone missed me.
If anyone cared.
A shudder ran through me when a gust of cool air slipped into the shower.
Then hands settled on my shoulders.
“What’s wrong, little fucktoy?” Nick whispered.
He didn’t wait for an answer. He picked up the pink washcloth and the body wash, snapping the lid open.
“This is your life,” he said calmly.“This is what you are now. So snap out of it.”
I blinked.
Nodded.
I preferred my yellow, cracked grout.
Chapter 31
Rowan
