Page 11 of Switched

She bites her bottom lip before me, gnawing on it bit by bit until I place my thumb on her flesh. “Stop.”

Candance nods her head, “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. Now come.” I take her hand in mine and head into her living room, making myself comfortable on the couch I pull her on top of me, holding her close. There’s a blanket on the back of the couch and I tug it down, making sure she’s covered completely. I only want her to feel safe, to know how secure and loved she is in my arms.

Candace leans her head against my chest and I hear her soft sniffles. I lower my lips to the top of her head, into that dark nest of hers, and give her soft kisses, letting her know just how cherished she is. “You will never be alone again, girl.” I run my hands along her arms, holding her as tightly to me as I possibly can.

I’m fucked, truly. Candace will talk back again, there’s no doubt about that. The only problem is that I will be bluffing if I ever give her an ultimatum. I just hope she never calls my bluff. What she doesn’t yet know is that I need her just as much as she needs me.

Chapter 15

Candace

Isitontheedge of my bed with a plush blanket that Drake wrapped securely around me just a few moments ago. He instructed me to stay put while he took a quick shower and shockingly enough, I’m obeying his demand. I stare across at the wall before me, more specifically the painting I had bought from Rouchelle just a few months ago. He’s a new and upcoming artist in the United States.

He had me stay in his arms for hours, until he popped me on the edge of the bed and now. I sit here simply staring at the combination of colors that hangs across from me. I remember walking into the gallery when his exhibition was going on, circling around the entire space, and coming back to this piece. Others hated it and were complaining about how the variation in color didn’t align with the other pieces in his show. They chose to see every negative instead of looking at it in the way I was – by itself. Rouchelle saw me in front of this painting. I must have been standing there for well over an hour until he approached me, obviously seeing my love for his work. I saw so much potential and even parts of self-reflection in myself. This piece was bland if you looked at it from the left and then suddenly on the right it started to merge into bouts of color. That spoke to me. It shows me now what it showed me back then, that even though something may be bland on one side doesn’t mean that it isn’t full of life.

I ended up buying the piece for twenty-seven thousand dollars. Rouchelle wanted to gift it to me. I remember the way I looked at him like he was absolutely asinine because in that moment I thought he was. I forget that artists are an odd type. They appreciate the people who respect and resonate with their work, and I certainly resonated with it.

I pull the plush gray blanket further against me, needing to feel the security of being wrapped in it. So much has happened with my father that I’m not quite sure how to take it anymore, or how to handle it. I’ve hidden things for so long, keeping them tucked away in the deepest parts of myself where I never thought I’d let them out. I had to be strong because there was no other option. I had to be the one who kept her shit together. I think I’ve come to realize that I don’t have to keep it all bottled up anymore. Nor do I want to. My Mom used to be the responsible one when she was still with us, and the day that she was gunned down in cold blood was the first day of my adulthood, when I was nowhere near being ready for all of that responsibility. I adapted quickly, needing to be able to control anything that I could to ensure that both Carly and I were safe. It was hard enough having a Dad who was barely around.

I scoff to myself now, if only I had known what kind of work he was doing back then. Everything would have made more sense and I may have been able to even save him from himself.

“Good girl.” Drake hums as he walks back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is damp, his abs are sculpted like a Greek god and I find myself pulling my blanket closer to me. Feeling enclosed is calming me, kind of how a swaddled baby is calm. I’m certainly no mother, but I’ve heard that wrapping the baby up makes them feel more secure. I’m no baby, but I really feel a lot better right now. He slides his arms under me and pulls me up. I’m forced to wrap my legs around him as he walks to the head of the bed and moves the duvet out of the way, bringing us both under the covers. “What are you doing?” I ask him, trying to wrap my head around why he’s still here. I know he has business to attend to. He doesn’t have to be here with me. In fact, I’m sure he’s missing a shitload of work because of me right now.

“I’m making sure you’re comfortable and cozy.” He says it so plainly like there is nothing out of the normal about how he’s treating me. I suppose there isn’t in a sense. Drake wants me to be his and he’s treating me as such. I’ve been thinking about becoming his girl ever since he brought it up.

Weighing the pros and the cons, then adding my emotions into the mix. I can’t deny the way I feel, or what I truly need. It’s not like I haven’t needed him before… I just couldn’t admit it to myself. Well, couldn’t or wouldn’t.

I’m afraid and that’s to be expected. While I adapt to change, I’m also petrified of it. Anytime change has occurred in my life it hasn’t exactly left a positive experience. I’m terrified of being hurt, of the wall that I’ve built so well over the years all of a sudden coming crashing down because I allowed him to get close enough to ruin me. That’s what I’m afraid of.

I’m afraid of becoming a shell of the person I’ve created.

I’m scared of the possibility.

I’m afraid of losing all control, even if it is to the one person I trust more than anyone else in this world.

Chapter 16

Drake

HoldingCandaceinmyarms, I soothe her and tell her she will never be alone again. Everything she had said struck me straight in the heart. Even though she lashed out, she learned very quickly that I call the shots in this relationship. That I will discipline my little bratty girl when she gets out of line with me. When her sweet pussy exploded with that sweet orgasm all over my mouth, I almost lost all control. I wanted to shove my raging hard cock deep inside and pound into her without mercy and tear down that wall.

I’m not ready to leave just yet, making myself at home. I take a shower to calm the intense urge to have my way with Candace. What she really needs right now is my comfort and security. She’s so vulnerable, her emotions all there in her eyes as I come out of her shower to lay next to her in bed. Her warm soft body molds right next to me as I wrap my arms around her.

“How are you feeling?” I ask her, curious to see if she’s going to try to hide the hurt and pain behind those eyes of hers, or if she will give me the truth without me having to demand it from her.

Her eyes peer up to mine. “I’m…” she pauses, “managing. Yes, I think I am managing for right now.”

“You are doing a good job at it, baby girl,” I tell her, running my hand along her back, hoping that it serves to soothe her in the way that she needs.

I lay here with her, my arms wrapped securely around my sweet angel’s body, only wanting to comfort her. She has been through so much in this life and while I only wish to take away all the hurt she’s been through, I know that all of her experiences have turned her into the amazing woman that she is today. At some point we both doze off, she moves all of a sudden and causes me to wake up, hearing my grumble.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry,” She looks up. “Thank you, Drake, for everything you’ve done.”

“No need to thank me, sweet girl. I know what you need. I can sense your sadness, anger, happiness, and especially when you’re wet and full of sexual need that only I can satisfy.”

Her hand glides down my stomach and pulls off the towel. My rigid dick rises, wanting her. “Can I pleasure you with my mouth Drake?”

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