Page 21 of Volatile Waters

A strained voice finally replied, “I will be there in an hour.”

“You do not have to ask where I am?”

“My husband runs this town. You’re on his turf.”

“Yet, I am fucking his wife.”

She exhaled. “So young and already so cruel.”

A sting to my unknown conscious had me growling, “Short skirt. I want to see your legs at all times.”

She hung up, but I knew she was coming. I had made a hell of an argument.

Room service had already arrived by the time Mrs. Thompson, in a full-length black trench coat, quietly entered my room. Her hair was tied back, exposing her long neck. As I closed the door behind her, I noticed how unhappy she was to be in the room. There was no sexy smile trying to tempt me. She was indeed using me and, according to the anger growing inside me, I did indeed care. I needed the sense of control. Everything that had transpired as of late and my encounter with Mrs. Thompson had me thinking too much. It had me doubting my responsibilities and loyalty. My confused state of mind was pissing me off even more. I sneered. “You can leave if you like.”

In a flash, Mrs. Thompson turned to face me and hid her face in my neck, her body pressed to mine. I was used to slaves getting confused and looking to me for comfort, but I had never had the desire to fulfill the request. In fact, the pitiful expressions usually excited me.

This was different. My heart started to pound, but I was unable to lift my arms.

She almost cried, “Please, hold me.”

My eyes closed. My fingers twitched.

I pushed her away. “Let’s get on with your lesson, shall we?”

Like the woman she was, she smoothed out her trench coat and lifted her chin, accepting the harsh rejection. I suppose she’d had much practice with her husband, and that’s why her voice was deadpan. “Of course. Why else would I be here?” Her hazel eyes bored into mine. “It wouldn’t be due to caring for you.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Why are your legs covered?”

Her jaw rigid, she unbuttoned the black coat and let it drop to the floor. She wore a black leather corset that zipped up the front, her perky breasts overflowing. A black skirt that barely existed hugged her hips and firm ass. Long legs teased me like a cold glass of water on a Russian summer day. The whole package of all woman, not an inexperienced scared slave, beckoned me in a daring manner. I licked my lips. “This outfit is derailing my plans.”

“Then I’ll leave.” Believing my words to be only another rejection, she spun around and bent over, reaching for her coat. Her short skirt was not enough coverage and ended up exposing her mature core. Like a bull, I rushed forward, taking possession of her body.

Slamming her front to a wall, I growled in her ear, “Master has not given you permission to leave yet.” I stepped between her legs, forcing them apart. “Understood?”

I could almost hear her heart racing in the silence of the room, but she coyly repeated, “Master?”

Kissing her exposed neck, I explained, “I do not like repeating myself.” Between her legs, I surged my hips forward. “Yes, Master. Let’s try again.”

“Yes.” She reached behind and around my waist, grabbing onto my ass to pull me into her.

I loved how her long fingers finally felt hungry for me. “Yes, what?”

Her hand stilled. The side profile of her face scrunched in confusion. “Pardon?”

Confused about her confusion, I felt slightly deflated. “Yes, Master.”

With no understanding of this process, or of the pecking order, she angrily groaned, “Yes, Master. Better, you little twit?”

I smelt her hair as I relished in the fact that she wasn’t willing to play. Usually, this brought immense joy because I would get to break her, but deep down, I hoped she would never bow to me. Her older essence was intense. Her strength was something I was quickly learning I craved in a woman. “Careful, your husband is not here to protect you this time.”

She chuckled with no humor. “If I remember correctly, you won that round. Not him.”

Again, I kissed her neck that smelt of flowers. “I believe you were the true winner, no?”

Her hips tilted back for me to have better access. “In more ways than one.”

I pumped my erection against her while my hands searched up her corset. Once her breasts were found, I pulled on her nipples. “I need a repeat performance. Should we invite your husband this time?”