Page 28 of Submitting to Them
“Touch your clit for me, princess,” I say.“Make yourself come.I want to feel your pussy clamping on my cock and your ass clamping on my fingers.Squeeze me, baby girl.”
Her pussy tightens around me before her fingers even reach her clit, but soon the tight sensation becomes rhythmic.She’s going to come soon.I saw my fingers in and out of her ass, feeling them against my cock.She cries out from the sensations, her voice muffled against her arm.
“Come for me, princess,” I say.“Show me what a good little girl you are.”
She shouts, her body going rigid while her pussy and ass milk me hard.White-hot pleasure drives from my balls to my dick and I come hard, hanging onto Ella like she’s a life raft and I’m caught in an ocean storm.
I want to protect her with all that I am, yet there’s no denying this girl has saved my soul.
We remain in this position for a long, breathless moment while our hearts slow.I slide out of her, yank up my boxers and jeans, and flop back on the couch.
Ella stretches and turns around to face me.
“I have that job interview,” she says, trailing her fingertips over my chest.“Do you think you could give me a ride to Chez Michel?”
“Yep.Go get ready.I’ll just be here, jerking off while I listen to your new song on repeat.”
She laughs and stands up, walking naked to her bedroom.
I wash up and get dressed while she gets ready, then I settle down to watch her video.
I don’t jerk off while I watch it, but I do play it on repeat.
Seven
Ella
I’m too embarrassed by my video to check my VideYou account.I don’t know what would be worse—having zero views, or having people actually watch it.And what if they make mean comments?VideYou commenters are known for their lack of tact.I saw that when Sebastian’s and my karaoke video went viral.Thankfully, I could ignore it because nothing had been traced to me—I closed down my personal social media accounts soon after I left the university to take care of my dad.It had been too painful to scroll through and watch my former friends all living their lives, moving on with their studies, meeting new boyfriends and girlfriends, going on vacations, buying new cars.
Social media seems to want to show the best of everything.Even when I was at my lowest, I knew intellectually that everything presented on my feeds was a shiny veneer, coated in filters and carefully edited to present life in impossibly good lighting.Yet in my heart, all I saw was everyone else’s happiness.
I’ve just finished cleaning at Dorado Terrace, and now I’m walking to Kingston’s penthouse.He gave me the access code for the elevator and told me to treat the place as my own.I’m not too proud to take him up on the offer.I’ve moved in a few changes of clothes and toiletries, and I can’t remember the last time I slept in my own apartment.
Truth is, I don’t miss it.
Traffic is light and lazy because it’s Saturday afternoon.I keep to the sidewalk and text Melinda, my Maids in Heaven boss.Any chance I can pick up an extra shift or two?
A minute later, my phone vibrates with her response.I don’t have anything right now.Are you looking for a permanent new assignment, or something short-term?
I wince.I haven’t told her yet about quitting Bartleby’s.Something permanent.
I’ll let you know when something comes up.
I love the woman for not asking questions.It’s hard enough right now, because I did not get the job at Chez Michel.I’m going to have to go online and see about finding openings at other restaurants and pubs.
As soon as the uncomfortable thought crosses my mind, my phone rings—and it’s Natasha.
“I got one of the open positions at Chez Michel,” she says.“Please tell me you did, too.”
“First,” I say, “congratulations.Second…I did not.”
“What?”She makes an outraged squawk.
“They’d already made their decisions before my interview, it sounds like,” I say.A part of me, though, will always wonder if I don’t look polished and high-class enough, like maybe they could smell the poverty on me.But I would never say that aloud, not to anyone.“I mean, they asked if they could call me if I was needed in the future.”
“Shit,” she says.“That really sucks.I’m sorry, E.”
“No, it’s all right, I’ll figure something out.”I have a safety net, now.Bash and Kingston will never let me starve or be kicked out of my apartment.They’ve asked, more than once, for me to move in with one of them.
