Page 81 of Mine

Another grumble interrupted my thoughts. My stomach was starting to fucking hurt. “Fuckingwhy?” I growled and sat up, annoyed that I had to eat something.

I stood up slowly and stretched, every muscle protesting. A workout would be good right now. Well, really anything but bed rotting would be good. But it wasn’t going to happen. The best I could do was eat a little something.

I looked at my phone lying on my bed, my fingertips itching.

The only company to my misery was the desire to text Pepper. I wondered what she was doing today. What were her weekends like? What did someone like her do to relax?

I snatched up a throw blanket and pulled it around my shoulders, wearing it like a cape around my naked chest as I finally emerged from my bedroom. I went down the hall, haunted by the past. Remembering times my father punched these walls, times I’d hidden in the small linen closet.

Tightening the blanket around me, I entered the kitchen and yanked open the fridge. I had left over pizza...

I didn’t want to cook. I wrinkled my nose and snatched a cold piece from the box, a Gatorade, and kicked the door shut.

This was a better pre-birthday than last year, at least. I was eating something instead of wasting away into the night.

I shoved the pizza down my throat and drained the Gatorade, and stared at the living room from the kitchen.

I couldn’t keep doing this.

Everything had to go. I needed to sell the house. That, or fucking burn it down. Living here was eating away at me, and it didn’t matter how convenient it was, I needed to get out.

Almost all the furniture belonged to him. A layer of dust had settled over everything. The kitchen, the garage, my bedroom, and the bathroom were the only parts of the house I frequented, and I’d decorated those the way I preferred. I’d even created a corner of my bedroom for recording videos, but it was all temporary.

My hand tightened on the plastic bottle and I tossed it into the recycling bin. In a blink, I was throwing myself back on my bed again and glaring at the wall.

Pepper came to mind.Uninvited. I buried my face in a pillow and sighed, trying to chase her away, but no. It was fucking impossible.

Maybe she’d vetoed the proposal Tommy sent her. I reached around for my phone until I felt it and picked it up, looking at the screen.

It was driving me crazy.

“Don’t do it,” I whispered to myself.

I set my phone down. I refused to text her, even though every single part of me wanted to. My eyes shuttered as I went over everything that happened.

The coffee shop. Beaumont’s. Our phone call. Russo’s.

A complete whirlwind. In just a couple of nights together, her essence had permeated my soul. It went beyond a simple connection or a fleeting desire.

I wasn't new to the kink community. Once I met Nancy and Beth, I threw myself into it wholeheartedly. I loved being a Dom, I loved exploring desires with others. Through the community, I was able to find a healthy outlet for my sadistic tendencies and discover what I enjoyed, too.

But even with all the experience I’d gained over the years, none of it came close to the way Pepper made me feel. She was a match and my entire body was drenched in gasoline. The lust inside me burned hot.

The desperation. The constant craving. Knowing that there were so many things she’d never experienced, and I could be the one to show her.

I could be the one tocorrupther.

My imagination went wild. The things I wanted to do to her…

In the darkness of my mind, she appeared again.

I imagined her on her knees, looking up at me with her pleading eyes, begging me to fuck her.

Begging me to use her.

I knew how difficult it was for her to share that part of herself, especially given that her last partner never cared about her—at least not in that way. I couldn’t imagine being married to someone for so long and not being able to explore sex together. It sounded like hell.

She deserved better.

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