Page 37 of Virginity Sold

“Okay,” comes out in a squeak as I stand. Stepping around the shattered glass, I continue to the kitchen. A small sliver of fear courses through me that they’ll be upset. The thought has me nauseous.

What’s happening to me?

“Sit down, Little Mouse, you need to eat. Then you’ll go wait for me in the bedroom, just like I discussed with you last night.”

“Yes, Sir.” I lower my head and take a seat at the table. Kyrian places a plate in front of me, before running his hand along my hair and leaning down, kissing the top of my head.

“Do you want coffee, juice, water?” Kyrian asks sweetly.

“Coffee, please.” I pick up the fork and poke at the eggs on my plate. They’ve never been my favorite, but when I see the slices of bacon, I perk up.

“Eat,” Liam orders, startling me. I stab a piece of egg and put it in my mouth, chewing quickly.

He takes a seat across from me and begins to eat also. Every few bites I glance up, taking the few stolen seconds to study him. He’s handsome with gray—almost silver—hair, and a slight salt-and-pepper beard that’s trimmed to perfection. He’s dressed more casually than last night, his short-sleeve shirt showing off his forearms covered with interlinking tattoos. Liam keeps a stern look on his face. Does he ever smile? He hasn’t since I met him last night.

Once I’m full, I lower my fork to the plate and pick up the mug, drinking some of the coffee. It tastes so much better than the instant no name brand I make at home. Guess money can purchase a better dose of morning caffeine.

“If you’re done, then go wait for me in the bedroom, Elena.” Liam leans back in his chair as he drinks his coffee, his eyes focused on me.

“Yes, Sir.” Scooting the chair back, I stand up, keeping my eyes down to the floor, and swiftly walk back to the room.

The whole time I repeat the steps in my head of how I’m to be waiting for him, needing to make sure I do everything exactly like he asked.

As soon as I step inside the room, I take hold of the bottom of the shirt, pull it over my head and drop it on the floor. But I immediately freeze and reach down, picking up the shirt. Folding it, I place it on one of the chairs.

I can see Liam coming in and getting angry at me for being messy. I want to be perfect for him, and I don’t know why.

The pillow I kneeled on last night is still there on the floor in front of his chair. I lower my body onto it, bowing my head and placing my hands on my thighs, palms up, and wait.

Once I’m kneeling, I notice I left the door ajar.

Is that okay? Should it be shut?

I want to jump and run over there to shut it, but I’m too afraid of not being in position when he walks in. I’d rather face his displeasure over the door being opened than not presenting myself as he requested.

I can hear their voices drifting into the room through the open door. One of them laughs, and it’s so joyful I can’t help but smile. I can tell in just this short time they love and care for each other, and probably even have family dinners together. I’d give anything for that. To have a family that actually loves and cares for each other. Not the fucked up one that I have.

A lone tear escapes, sliding down my cheek. I don’t wipe it away. I can’t. The need to please him is so great.

But he doesn’t come. I wait and wait and nothing. My body begins to ache, sitting like this for so long. I want to stand up and stretch.

But Liam would be mad, and I wouldn’t earn his praise.

My eyes grow heavy, and my head begins to bob.

How long have I been sitting here? It’s quiet outside the room and I start to worry they have left until I hear the faint sound of a news channel on television.

Is this a test? Does he want to see how well I’ll listen? How patient I'll be?

I push all the questions and pain away. I can do this. I need to.

Then the sounds of shoes on the hardwood floor ring out. He’s coming. My heart begins to race and a surge of energy hits me. I straighten my posture and take a deep breath.

He steps inside the room but doesn’t say a word, and I don’t look up. I’m to remain like this unless he tells me otherwise.

“Very good, Little Mouse.” He doesn’t tell me to look up, so I don’t. Clothes rustling is the only sound in the room. Is he finally going to give me a glimpse of his naked body?

He steps up beside me, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his bare feet and legs. Is he completely naked? The rebellious part of me wants to say fuck it and look, but I don’t.

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