Page 58 of Shamefully Trained

His voice had gone calm again with terrifying speed.

A pause.

“Yes. Is the new young lady’s apartment ready?”

I froze.

Apartment.

He listened for a moment, his hand still resting on my hip as if the conversation and the fact of his semen inside me belonged naturally to the same order of business.

“Good,” he said. “We’ll be down shortly.”

He ended the call, set the phone on the table, and only then withdrew.

I gasped at the emptiness. Immediately I felt warmth slipping out of me. My face burned hotter than ever, if that was possible. I stayed bent over because I didn’t think I was capable of anything else, and because I instinctively felt, with a quick, scalding blush, that I needed permission.

He released my wrists at last.

“You may get up,” he said. I had to push down a whimper.

I straightened slowly, with a little cry at the combined soreness in my bottom, my thighs, everywhere. When I turned, he was looking at me with the composed satisfaction of a man who had just completed a task to his standards.

I wrapped my arms around myself without thinking.

“Don’t.”

I lowered them at once, more blood rushing to my cheeks.

He walked away toward the bedroom with the unhurried ease of someone entirely at home in his own authority. I followed a few steps behind because it did not occur to me not to.

By the time I entered the bedroom he had already opened a closet and was dressing with brisk efficiency, replacing the suit with dark jeans and a charcoal t-shirt that somehow made him look no less in command. If anything, the simplicity of it made him seem more dangerous, not less. He belonged in expensive tailoring, certainly, but the casual clothes suggested that the authority came from him rather than from anything he wore.

He crossed to a chest and took out a folded bundle of soft gray fabric, then turned and held it out.

“For you.”

I took it automatically. Sweatpants. A matching sweatshirt.

I blinked at them, then at him. “Now?”

“Yes. You’re sleeping downstairs in your new place tonight.”

Something fluttered low in my stomach at the phrase. Downstairs. Sleeping where he chose, apparently.

I hesitated. “Are you going to… I mean, can I… you know… take it out?” With yet another flush, I turned slightly and gestured to my backside.

His eyes dropped briefly toward the plug, then rose again. “That stays in.”

CHAPTER 19

Alex

“All night?” I asked, incredulous.

“Yes.”

I swallowed.