Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
And I couldn’t comprehend that she had the insatiability I’d always wanted, that she was a sexual submissive who climaxed the hardest when restrained, and that she was mine, that she wanted to be mine. They gave me this information to optimize her use. They gave me information to keep her under my control.
She only wanted so badly to be mine because they had taken 19 days, more than quadruple of what broke the average Kruna slave, and once she was broken she was so utterly broken that they didn’t have to worry about sending her out in the world to be the slave of the son of one of their most important partners. Was she a submissive who loved to fuck so much only because she was broken? If I’d met the girl in Alaska with the piercings and the wild curls and mischief in her eyes would I have wanted her? Would she be so compatible? Or, would she have had that spark, that wildness I loved and still been my Angel, been fucking perfect in every way for me?
I was enraged. Enraged at them because they broke her and enraged at myself. I stomped on the tablet and then walked with it and tossed it in a dumpster behind a nearby fast food joint.
How the fuck could I keep her? How the fuck could I not?
I was bored. Maybe that was a good sign. Was it a sign that I might be snapping out of it? I was itching to be outside. Back at Kruna I was content when I was in my room or when I had free time with nothing to do. I didn’t get to watch TV and I hardly socialized but I was fine in my own company because it was a brief reprieve from the roles I was always playing.
There was a quiet courtyard Zen garden area we could go to for fresh air and there were common rooms where we could read or talk with other girls. There were some board games, Mahjong tiles, a chess board. There was a gym. I generally spent time alone when I wasn’t on assignment. But my mindset had already begun to shift. I didn’t feel like I was still Felicia, but I didn’t feel like me, either. I just wanted to be Dare Ferrano’s angel. But him asking me to be me was niggling at me, too. Did I know how to be me?
I’d reorganized everything in his apartment, not that it was messy, and I didn’t go digging through his drawers or anything private, but I’d washed and dusted everything so often it had become tedious.
He’d said I’d eventually be able to come and go. I wasn’t sure what I’d do out there but the idea of taking a walk, feeding ducks in the park, window shopping, people watching, going to the library… it all sounded good.
I wasn’t sure where he and I were, though.
He was back just a few hours after he’d left. And he was in a mood. He’d come in, jaw tight, eyes angry, body language rigid, pissed off. He threw his keys on the table by the door, roughly hit buttons on the alarm, walked past me with a chin lift and then slammed the door behind himself in the den. Slammed it hard. I’d been at the island, needlessly wiping it when he came in and now I didn’t know what to do with myself.
A few hours later he emerged from the den. I was watching TV. He grabbed his keys and hit buttons on the alarm panel and then headed out the door, barely looking at me. I watched him go without a word.
An hour later he was back, slamming the door, hitting alarm panel buttons, then heading into his den, again without speaking to me.
He hadn’t come out by 9:00 at night and so I made a PB&J sandwich and figured I’d might as well go to sleep. I didn’t know whether to sleep in his bed or not so I curled up on the sofa. I didn’t want to disturb him in the office where my clothes were so I just got under the soft throw and put the TV on and I eventually drifted off to sleep.
I woke up to him carrying me. Again. My heart leapt forward like it’d done last night when he’d carried me to his bed. If I got lucky enough to spend my life with this man, I’d be tempted to fall asleep on purpose somewhere other than his bed every single night if it meant he’d carry me to bed like this every time. It was so gallant, so dominant, so perfect. I opened my eyes and looked at his face and he had what looked like a hard, stone-cold look in his eyes when he looked at me. I didn’t know what to make of it.