“Fair doesn’t exist here, sweetheart.” He crouches beside me, resting his forearms on his knees, eyes bright with amusement. “You know what does exist? Rules. And the rule is: you don’t touch yourself unless we say you can.”
“That’s not a rule?—”
“It is now.”
I glare at him, pulse pounding in my ears. “You can’t just?—”
“We can.” His hand comes to my knee, light, almost casual, and slides up my thigh. Slow. Deliberate. “And we did.”
My breath catches. His fingers stop just short of where I’m aching, brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
“Please,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
His grin widens. “Oh, I like that. Say it again.”
“Rogue—”
“Say it.”
“Please.”
His fingers slide higher, so close I can feel the heat of his hand, and then stop. “Please what?”
“Please let me—” I can’t finish the sentence. It’s too humiliating.
“Let you come?” he asks, voice soft and mocking. “Let you finish what you started?”
“Yes.”
He hums thoughtfully, fingers tracing lazy circles on my inner thigh. Not moving higher. Not giving me anything.
“Here’s the thing, Vi,” he murmurs. “You don’t get to decide when you come. We do. And right now?” His hand lifts away completely. “We say no.”
A frustrated sound tears out of my throat. “You’re an asshole.”
“True,” he agrees, standing up. “Now, get dressed. You’ve got work.”
I stare at him, incredulous. “You’re serious.”
“Very.” He walks to the door, pauses with his hand on the handle. “And, Vi?”
“What?”
He glances back over his shoulder, eyes glittering. “If I catch you touching yourself again without permission, I’ll make sure you don’t come for a week.”
Then he’s gone. The door closes. The lock clicks.
I’m left sitting there, blanket pooled around my waist, thighs still slick, hands shaking with the effort it takes not to finish what I started.
I’m so fucked.
But I get up anyway. Force my legs to work even though they’re trembling. Pull on my clothes with shaking hands, every brush of fabric against my skin making the ache worse.
By the time I step out into the corridor, the Rot is already moving around me, voices, boots, the low hum of activity that never stops.
And somewhere in the noise, I know they’re watching. Waiting. Deciding when I’ve earned what I need.
I take a breath, square my shoulders, and start walking.
