“I’m not hungry,” she giggles. “I want sex. If you won’t give it to me, send someone else in.”
She’s lucky I don’t let images of other guys being in this room take over my mind. Lucky I have better control over my urges than some of those boys she fucks from time to time. I take the bread, putting it in front of her lips. She barely licks it with the tip of her tongue. “Don’t like it.”
“You love rye bread. Eat.”
“I want to eat the protein bar only sold at the vending machine at Ms. Barry’s school. They’re so good. I haven’t had them in forever. Yum. Oh! I could go to Ms. Barry’s and get some of those for the kids I teach on Saturdays. They’d love them too, I bet.”
“I can’t take you to Ms. Barry’s school right now. So you’re going to eat this.”
“No.”
She presses her lips together, shaking her head dramatically and sending drops of water onto her pillows and comforter from her wet hair.
“Ella.” My stern voice stops her right away. “You know how I feel about brats.” I wrap my hand around her jaw, preventing her from even trying to shake her head again. “Tell me how I feel about them.”
She licks her lips, and I watch her throat work as she swallows.
“You…you don’t like brats.” As she squirms, her thighs press together. I can see it from the opening in her robe. “You think they’re attention seekers desperate to be punished.” The alcohol is making her recite my exact thoughts like a well-learned lesson. And it is. I spent a lot of time drilling that specific lesson into her brain. I’m glad she didn’t forget.
“That’s right, and do you want to be punished?”
“No,” she rasps.
“I only deal with good girls who rarely make mistakes, and you already used your quota of brattiness for the day.”
I feel her try to nod against my hand, so I let go of her face. “Now open your mouth and eat.”
She does. She eats and drinks everything I give her. She takes the painkillers too. She’s going to hate herself tomorrow for listening to me and letting me take care of her.
“Atta girl. Go brush your teeth, and then I’ll get you into bed.”
“Ooh,” she taunts me as she walks to the bathroom. Turning around, she winks at me. “Get me into bed, huh? Okay, Daddy.”
I groan the second she disappears. She’s making this so hard on me.
I hear the water running, and then her head reappears by the door, toothbrush in her mouth. She wiggles her eyebrows, and it takes all of me not to run to her and grab her into a mint-flavored ravenous kiss.
When she finally comes back, I notice she loosened the belt around her waist, and part of the robe is falling off her shoulder.
“I’m ready,” she purrs.
“For sleep,” I add.
“Sure.” Hurrying toward the bed, she crawls into it. “Sleep.” Then she all but crashes into the pillows. “Fuck me hard, Christopher Murray.” She buries herself deeper into the mattress, and a few seconds later, I watch her breathing slow as she falls asleep.
I smile to myself and arrange the covers over her. Kicking off my shoes, I lie down next to her with my hands behind my head and turn off the light.
A few minutes later, I feel Ella twist and turn next to me until I hear.
“I feel sick.”
I shoot up into a sitting position. Heart racing from worry, I turn the light back on. “Can you walk to the bathroom? Do you need me to carry you?”
She turns toward me, putting a hand on my chest. “Sick from lack of sex.” And she bursts out laughing as I shake my head.
“Go back to sleep, Sweets.”
I try to keep my eyes on the ceiling as I lie back down, but the second she turns to her side, her back to me, and shifts until her ass is against me, I can’t help it. My gaze flicks to the right, and I force myself to hold back a groan when I notice she’s pushed the covers down, the plush bathrobe all the way to her mid thighs, and I’m only a couple of inches away from seeing her naked form underneath.