Page 31 of Red Velvet

"Don't make it sound like I'm an experiment to you, little girl. Like you're the one trying me out when it's really the other way around. Understand?"

I catch her gaze and narrow my eyes, heavy with an ominous warning.

Lucky for her, she seems to receive the message and remember how to be a good little girl for me. She nods, hugging the blanket even tighter as she whispers, "Yes, sir."

Chapter 16

Lila

A dull ache travels up my spine when I sit at my work desk, and the muscles in my face spasm out of control as I try to process the pain. Pulling myself together, I let out a deep breath as my body adjusts to the pressure, the pain no longer as fiery as it was in the beginning. Just a gentle throbbing remains, reminding me of the fun I had the night before.

I have to keep it together, because my desk is in the middle of an open office space. Our tables aren't even separated by cubicles or any kind of privacy shield, so everyone in here can see every motion as I shift on my chair, every grimace that finds its way on my face—and they’re the last people I want to know about my little secret.

Not even my closest friend at work, Sybil, who sits across from me. Luckily she's always pretty occupied with her e-mails in the morning, so I got nothing but a quick and friendly nod when I first walked in. She's not in a chatty mood, and neither am I, albeit for different reasons, I assume.

He warned me about this. He said I would still feel and see the impact of what we did last night even a day or two after it happened, that there would be marks and I wouldn't be able to sit at my desk without feeling the lasting impression he’d left on me.

He also said I would love it.

And he's right about that.

Even as the hot throbbing continues to send hints of agony through my body, I'm sitting there smiling while my outdated computer is booting up and I'm trying to get mentally ready for my day at work.

Easier said than done. I feel like I'm still riding that high, like I'm still coming, still reveling in the orgasmic trance that lasted so much longer than a simple peak toward the end. I was on edge and dizzy with lust long before he finally decided to fuck me, long before he even touched me.

Everything about him is turning me on. He's more than just handsome. He has a presence. I couldn't quite grasp it during our first meeting, because I was drunk and flustered with my worries about ruining Elene's wedding day, but last night I saw it—reallysaw it. There's something about the way he moves, about the way he looks at me, the way he talks to me, the way he just knows what I need, even before I know it myself.

There's something magical about that, something as wonderful as it is confusing. I don't blame him for the way he responded to my sequence of peculiar questions and my odd assessment when I called him a godsend. It was a weird thing to say, but I meant it.

"A little late today. You okay?"

Sybil's question startles me, pulling me out of my quiet musings and back to the reality of everyday life. A breeze of sadness and disappointment brushes my heart when I realize I have no choice but to face a boring day of dull labor ahead of me.

No spark, no thrill, no elation.

No handsome stranger who’ll guide me through a world dipped in hot red, where fiery pain and warm pleasure meet in the most spectacular way.

"I, um… yeah, I'm fine," I reply, giving Sybil a reassuring smile. "I'm great."

She arches her eyebrows in a telltale way, leaning forward and supporting herself on her elbows while regarding me with a conspiratorial smirk. "Uhhh, who's the guy?"

I blush instantly, cursing myself for being so transparent even when I meant to keep my little adventure a secret.

Little adventure. I wonder what he would think of that choice of words.

"No one," I lie, portraying my best cool-as-a-cucumber impression. "I just slept in a little. Does wonders for your mood."

"Yeah right!" Sybil laughs, shaking her head while she retreats to her desk. "Fine. You don't want to tell me. I get it. You'll tell me eventually, though, right?"

I chuckle. "Maybe."

"That's good enough for me."

She winks at me and—thank God—turns back to her computer. I try to do the same, applying my best busy look as I stare at my e-mail inbox. But the letters blur while my mind wanders, away from the computer, away from my tasks, away from the present at hand—and back to him.

It ended so quickly. He told me to get dressed shortly after I promised to not denote him as an experiment, and we went back downstairs. I was hoping we would have another drink and talk a little more, but he headed straight for the door, escorting me out and insisting on bringing me home. I didn't want to prolong my silly game of keeping my true address a secret from him, so he now knows exactly where to find me.

It was all so abrupt that I'd doubt it had even happened if it weren't for the soreness on my ass. The real reason for my tardiness today wasn't that I slept in, but because I spent too much time turning and twisting in front of my full-length mirror, examining the colors on my butt cheeks.