Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Perhaps I would hate myself later for allowing such a man to hold me this way. Or, maybe I had to choose to survive as best I could, even if it was with a difficult mate I would have never chosen.
A mate who was letting me cry all over his uniform as he stroked my back and hushed me.
There was some comfort to be found in his embrace, but it wasn’t enough.
My pain at my mother’s rejection was so astounding that it physically hurt.
Unlike injuries from training or battle, it was not going to heal quickly or vanish without a scar.
All thoughts of touring the city fled. I just wanted to forget the day ever happened.
Do anything to make such loss go away.
I didn’t want to think. At all.
Reaching for Cyderial’s neck, I pulled his head down so I might whisper this all to him. I begged him to take me to bed and make me feel better. To use every trick. To do whatever he wanted if it would allow me to rest in oblivion when it was over. And then I sobbed in relief when he promised me he would do all I asked and more.
I woke groggy and swollen about my middle to such a point it was difficult to sit up. Earnest to keep his promise, Cyderial had done much to distract me from my sorrow.
Maybe too much, considering the size of my belly.
It protruded, the pressure great, yet the plug held firm.
Fat with cum.
That’s what I was now.
Hearing the clatter of a man cooking in his kitchen, I inhaled the scent of something delicious and found my body did not consider itself full enough. Hunger made itself known, my stomach grumbling something fierce.
But satisfying my body in that manner would have to wait.
With privacy enough to look over what had been done to me, what I willingly participated in, I let my touch linger over the swell of my stomach. The initial shock of such a metamorphosis didn’t upset me as it had the day before. Not now that I knew what to expect.
The skin of my belly was taut, yet it didn’t hurt when my fingers danced over it.
Even the pressure behind the plug felt… good?
Satisfying.
Natural.
Maybe even a touch perverse.
Perhaps some part of me might even appreciate what he could do with me. The animal side was quite content.
Shy to do it, but wanting to know, I let my fingers reach around my belly to the mound I could no longer see. My slit was a bit swollen, soft to the touch, and extremely sensitive. My breath caught with one swipe, surprising me that something so simple might curl my toes.
But the more human parts of me were… intrigued. Bearing down on that thick, waxy, plug left me gasping as if it were something else deep inside me. Little shockwaves warned me not to do it again, fluttering about that plug, simulating climax.
No… not simulating.
Sensitive as I was, I orgasmed.
Quietly as I could, gasping little sips of air to keep my unexpected pleasure silent. Hand pressed between my legs as if I could hold it in, make it stop.
A minute later, the waving cramp that churned all he left inside me settled. And I knew better than to try such internal explorations again.
Not unless I wanted to draw his attention and encourage more than I could handle.
I had to accept what he meticulously left there, carry it under my hearts, and leave the plug alone or my body would make me suffer pleasure I had not intended.
A true addiction indeed.
“What have I done?” I had asked explicitly to be treated in the exact way his filthy books described a female. Practically begged, because I knew it would feel better than being so sad.
And yes, he had enthusiastically given all I could physically want. But he also held me, spoke softly to me, kept me dazed enough that the heartbreak didn’t hurt so much, while also giving me an outlet to process how truly awful I felt.
Despite all the pleasure, I’d been wretched.
And despite sleep, I felt exhausted.
I felt drained. Understood just how easy it was to surrender total control to someone stronger, bitterly acknowledged there was something very freeing in knowing your mate might manipulate and coerce you but could never hurt you.
Even that night on his office floor had not amounted to so much as a bruise.
Not that I’d forgiven what he’d done.
But I had to set it aside.
I could not be angry about what I could not change and grieve the mother who didn’t love me.
I wasn’t strong enough for both.
And maybe he knew that. Maybe that was why he let me meet her as quickly as he did.
His battle had been easily won, and I was utterly destroyed.
On my knees, begging for him to make me feel safe. To make me feel wanted. To love me, even if he might not know how.