Page 23 of Depraved Lust
Birth control.
He sits me upright, making me cringe from the stinging sensation and moves off the bed. I keep my head lowered and try not to show how fucking worried I am.
“I’ll be back in one hour. Be ready for me this time.” He cups my chin in his hand. “I’ve been going easy on you, so don’t make me regret that.”
His lips hover an inch away from mine, but he doesn’t lean in. My breathing picks up and I wait for him to kiss me. But he doesn’t.
He drops his hand and walks quickly to the door.
“One hour. Don’t disappoint me, kitten.”
14
Catherine
I breathe in deep and look at my reflection as I layer on one more coat of mascara. The cabinet is filled with high-end beauty products that are all brand new. It also contains my makeup bag, which he obviously stole from my house.
I’ve been watching the clock like a hawk.
My hair’s tied back in a loose braid, and my makeup is clean and natural-looking, just enough to cover the imperfections.
The closet is stuffed with all sorts of clothing. From cocktail dresses to slutty role-playing costumes, to everyday pieces that I actually love. He also brought along a duffel bag packed with a few items that I wear all the time.
The variety of clothing, makeup, and accessories is strangely familiar. Some things I recognize as mine, but the new additions are all nicer, more luxurious versions of what I already own.
The one thing he didn’t grab were the owl earrings my mother left me.
They were hers, and when she found out she only had three months left to live, she gave them to me.
They’re gorgeous. I'd admired them since I was a little girl. The earrings are yellow gold with ruby flowers in the centres of the owls, but I’ve never worn them. I was always too afraid I’d lose them. And now they’re gone.
I tilt my head back and exhale, waving my hands around my face to cool my eyes and keep me from crying. It’s almost time, and I can’t ruin my makeup and piss him off.
I don’t know why I was so lackadaisical when he came in this morning. Maybe it’s because I slept so damn well. It took forever to actually get to sleep, but when I did, I slept wonderfully. I guess allowing myself to cry some helped. I'm not sure why I wasn't more alert this morning. Maybe it's because he was so lenient last night, but whatever the reason, I can't let it happen again.
I calm myself down and put the mascara back. Everything’s neat and put away. It makes me feel at ease. I just need to make the bed and then I can wait for him.
I always make my bed in the morning. I think staying at home all day has made me a tidier person than I ever was before. So long as I’m capable of making the bed, I’m able to do anything. I snort a humourless laugh as I move the sheets into place and reach for the duvet. It’s so pretty and soft. It’s off-white, with thin silver threading making a paisley design throughout.
I bend at the waist to lay my head down on the bed and love how I sink into the mattress and smell the comforting scent of fresh laundry. As I inhale deeply, I hear the doorknob turn and the door slowly open. I quickly climb the bed and kneel at the end of it. I don’t know if this is where he wants me. My heart races. I don’t know any of his preferences. He never told me. He may want my hair a certain way, my makeup to be heavier, or my clothes to be different. I have no fucking clue. I need to ask him. He hasn’t given me anything. He’s not playing fair.
As soon as I find out what kind of mood he’s in, I’m asking. So long as it’s a good mood.
I hear him walk by the sofa and toward the bed, but I don’t look up. I keep my head bowed and wait. I’m on my knees, sitting back on my heels with my hands slightly in front of me, palms up.
I’ve read a lot of books and there are so many damn positions. I don’t know which one he means by kneel. For Christ's sake, in movies they kneel on one foot, but I’m sure he doesn’t mean that though.
I watch as he picks up my hand and places it gently on my thigh and does the same with the other. His fingers tilt my chin up, so I have to look at him.
“No need to bow, kitten.” He pets my hair as he talks. It’s soothing and rhythmic. “I want your eyes on me always. You never have to look away.”
“Yes, Anthony.” I feel like I’m playing a role. It gives me a small thrill, but I have to remember this is an act. All of this is an act.
“Did you find everything you need?” he asks.
I look up at him through my lashes. He’s so fucking handsome. It still amazes me that he felt the need to take a woman when he could have anyone he wanted. That a man like him would stoop this low. I realize I haven't answered his question and bite my lip. I want to tell him I want more of my things, but I can’t. I’m too scared to do anything to upset him. Because of that, I merely nod my head in assent.
“So I packed everything that you need, then?” he asks with slight disbelief in his tone. The way he says it makes me feel like I’d be a liar now to tell him that I want more of my things. My skin heats and I feel nauseated. I feel trapped in a corner, like no matter what I do, it’ll be wrong.
