Page 30 of Beautiful Scar

“I’m not interested,” she snaps at me.

“If you change your mind, all you have to do is knock on that door. Middle of the night and feeling lonely? Go ahead and summon me.” I stop and look back at her, licking my lips. “I’ll come when you call, my little doll.”

“Asshole,” she barks, picking up a book and flinging it at me.

I dodge, grinning to myself.

There’s the little spirit I’ve been missing.

Now we’ll see how long it takes before she comes begging for me to slip myself deep inside of her.

Chapter 9

Dasha

His freaking doll.

I roll that thought around in my head for the next few days. While I’m cleaning, while I’m lounging, while I’m alone in the steam-filled shower.

His little doll.

It repulses me. But I keep coming back to it. Over and over, I think about what it means.

Submissive. Quiet. Obedient.

Everything I’ve tried to be for years, thinking that if I could only act right, I’d somehow be exempt from this exact scenario.

But the best I’ve felt since coming here was when I was tearing this room to pieces and when I threw that book at Tigran’s head.

He doesn’t bother me for a couple of days after that one visit. I stew for a while, but eventually, I take him up on his offer. Vito’s more than happy to provide me with a black American Express in my name. “No limit, of course,” he says happily. “Order anything you like and have it sent to the house. And if you needfurniture delivered, just inform a member of the staff or flag me down personally.”

Dad was generous, but he was neverno limitgenerous.

I’m a little giddy at first, looking over all my options online. Until I realize that the second I start spending Tigran’s money is the second I owe him something.

I agonize. For two days, I obsess and worry, with one eye on that locked door.

I don’t go near it except when I hurry to my bedroom.

But the door’s always in the back of my head.

What would happen if he came in through there? And what does it mean that I’ve been tempted to knock?

Just to get it over with, of course.

Except I can’t bring myself to do it. Not just because I find Tigran to be so terrifying.

But also because I’ve never been touched by a man like that.

I became a recluse at the age of thirteen, which means I’ve barely been around men who aren’t related to me since then, much less actually had sex with one.

The idea of touching him is overwhelming, both because it scares me and because I want it.

Which is definitely wrong and something I need to suppress.

Instead of giving in to my filthy, dirty needs, I touch myself at night in bed. I’ve gotten pretty good at taking care of my needs through a generous application of fingers, spit, and porn.

But these last couple of nights, I haven’t needed my usual favorite videos.

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