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“Paige,” she hissed. “Please, master, call me Paige. I want it to be us. You and me. I want to be me… I really want to be me…”
No hesitation. Not even a heartbeat. “Paige,” I repeated. “You’re beautiful enough to drive me fucking wild, little Paige.”
And that’s when her head twisted just enough in my grip that her eyes met mine, so fucking close, her breath on my cheek.
“And you’re beautiful enough to drive me wild, Mr Grant…”
I’d never have imagined I’d want to hear my name on a girl’s lips in a million years.
I’d never have imagined I’d want a girl to know my name full stop in a million years.
But from her it was everything.
My voice was nothing more than a rasp.
“It’s Brandon,” I told her. “Call me Brandon.”
Her voice was a rasp right back. “You’re beautiful enough to drive me wild, Brandon, sir. Brandon, master…”
I shouldn’t come inside her. Not her tight little cunt. Not without the medicals, or the assurances of contraceptives. I’d already skirted the line at every opportunity since holing up with her for her sixty-day sub fest.
Yet again, all my common sense bailed right out the window.
“Take it, Paige,” I hissed. “Take my seed and tell me you really fucking want it. Tell me you really fucking want me.”
She didn’t have the opportunity to do much more than whimper and buck back harder for more. My slams were frantic. Deep. All fucking consuming as my balls burned hot and threatened to blow their load.
And so they did.
They blew their load deep inside that sweet little cunt.
The commentary that came from her lips was glorious. Sweet. Tender and dirty all at fucking once.
“Oh God, Brandon. Please, I really want your seed! Please, sir, I want you!”
My breath was ragged. My dick still pulsing deep as I emptied myself inside her.
And then she said it.
She fucking said it.
“Brandon…” she whispered, eyes open wide. “I love you…”Chapter Twenty-NinePaigeIt was a wrong move – a bleat of idiot words when I was too caught up in the magic to stop myself.
I shouldn’t have said it out loud. Not in front of the cameras and the whole world of viewers watching. And not in front of him.
Not in front of Brandon Grant.
Brandon.
I felt him tense up the moment the words were out there between us. I hitched my breath as he pulled out of me in one quick movement and lifted his body clear of mine.
Repulsed?
Shocked?
Embarrassed by my outburst?
It was everything I could do to strain my neck to face him, shackles still fixed tight to the bedposts.
“Tune in for tomorrow’s show,” he grunted to the cameras and backed away across the room. My heart was in my throat as he closed off the live feed. The camera lights flicked from green to red and stayed there unblinking.
I’d messed up, for sure.
I’d messed up so bad my stomach was a bag of misfiring nerves.
“I’m sorry,” I offered. “I was lost… in the moment…”
I’d wanted to say I didn’t mean it, it was just a stupid blunder, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t lie, not like that. Not to him.
He was as cold as ice as he returned to unshackle me, releasing the buckles and casting the shackles free without so much as a comment.
“Please, sir,” I said, not daring to continue using his name. “Please, sir… I shouldn’t have said anything like that, not on camera…”
“That isn’t it,” he told me. “You have nothing to apologise for. The errors here are all mine.”
I changed position, sitting up on the bed with my knees pulled up tight, ignoring the soreness of every scrap of flesh. I felt like such an idiot. Embarrassed. Uncomfortable. Vulnerable in my honesty.
And he saw it. His eyes focused on mine and he saw it.
Only he didn’t believe it. Didn’t believe I could really feel that way…
“This isn’t love,” he said. “You’re just a good girl in a bad world, wanting to see the best in it. Wanting to see the best in me.”
“I see what’s there,” I countered. “I see what your eyes have shown me, how they care for me, even if you haven’t wanted them to. I see what you’ve done for me, even if you want to be nothing more than a monster.”
“I am a monster. Everything else you think you’ve seen is irrelevant, sweetheart.”
Nothing felt irrelevant to me. Not the time we’d spent together in this intense bubble of soul for sale. Not the truth I’d seen in his eyes during quiet moments, just him and me. Not the warmth I’d felt in his arms, in his touch, in his voice. In his everything.
But it didn’t matter. Not to him. His stare was steely, jaw gritted tight, as though he was fighting monsters of his own.
Maybe his personal demons would win the battle of love versus illusion and cast me out of here as a girl gone mad.
