This was stupid. He could be gone for hours. I glanced over my shoulder at the wall clock and huffed. Why was time moving so slowly?
Every minute that passed seemed to crank up the dial on how uncomfortable this position was. My knees hurt against the hard floor, and my arms were aching from being kept behind my back. Surely I could at least sit in a more comfortable position for a bit. There weren’t cameras in here, were there? I peered around the room, searching for any I might not have spotted before, and relaxed onto my ass.
As soon as he’d left, I’d taken off my dress and underwear and pulled on a silk robe I could easily whip off if he walked through the door at a moment’s notice. There was no way I was going to kneel on the floor, naked, waiting for my punishment. Or… was that the punishment? Me. Waiting. Naked. Horny. Pulsing. Yearning for her husband to walk through the door, hoping he might just give me a little reward for being his good girl, or… more excitingly, punish me the way he was so good at doing for being hisBella Ribelle?
Christ, what had happened to me? Who was this woman?
I scoffed and shook my head. I couldn’t deny it was exhilarating. He was exhilarating. I’d never been with a man who gave so much of his attention and time to making me feel… this. Whatever this was. The anticipation, longing, and need burned so hot, but I knew there was only one way to put it out. Endure and submit.
I made it to forty-one minutes before I became acutely aware of another need. Coffee. I may have signed up for sexual punishments, but definitely not caffeine withdrawal. What were the chances he’d come home in the time it took me to run to the kitchen and make a coffee? Low. Chances I was willing to bet on.
Tightening the robe around my waist, I rushed to the kitchen and switched on the coffee machine. I was still getting the hang of it, trying to remember all the different settings and instructions Sani had talked me through, when Soraya walked in. We glanced at each other, and I smiled, expecting her to drop her gaze or leave the room, but to my surprise, she returned mysmile.Oh, my God. Progress.
Not wanting to make it weird with my joy, I moved my attention back to the coffee machine when she pulled out a stool at the kitchen table and sat down with a notepad and pen. I pressed a button that made a screeching noise and sent a puff of steam from a metal tube that wasn’t supposed to happen yet.
“Shit. That was wrong.”
Soraya made her way towards me, and I stepped back in surprise as she reached across me, fiddled with a few settings, placed my mug under the funnel, and then pressed start.
“Oh, grazie. I’m used to the hospital pots, not these fancy machines. Honestly, it’s like Build-A-Bear for coffee.”
She gave me a quizzical look.
“Build-A-Bear? Oh, I don’t think you have them in Italy. It’s a teddy shop. Kids stuff their own bears from scratch. It’s actually really cute, but extortionate for what it is. I had a birthday there once. I think it was my eighth.”
Jesus, why was I rambling about Build-A-Bears?
She gave me another smile and returned to the kitchen stool.
“Would you like one?”
She lifted her gaze from her notebook with confusion.
“A coffee, I mean. Not a Build-A-Bear.”
She shook her head.Okay then.I exhaled, took the mug, and leaned against the kitchen counter, unsure what the hell to do next. I should really get back to the bedroom in case Sani walked through the door, but it felt rude to just leave. Especially when she was clearly trying to be in the same space as me. This felt like serious progress, and I didn’t want to ruin it. But the silence was eating me alive.
I tried to catch a glimpse of what she was working on with that pen and paper, and immediately blushed when she caught me snooping. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”
She looked down at her page, then twisted it around and pushed it towards me. I stepped forward and studied the complex musical notation across the page.
“Are you composing music?”
She nodded.
“Wow. That’s impressive. I don’t have a single musical bone in my body. Do you play any instruments?”
She nodded and drew an audible, shallow breath as if bracing for some kind of impact, and then the softest voice filled the room. “H-harp, mostly. And piano.”
I tried not to let my glee at her talking to me show and kept my cool. “The harp? Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone play the harp before. How long have you been playing?”
Another long pause, then she muttered, “Since I was six. I was eight when I started the piano.”
“That’s amazing. I’d love to be talented at something like that, or anything, really. I have zero talent or special gifts.”
A soft smile touched her lips. I pushed the notepad back towards her, and she continued her composition as I sipped my coffee. Silence again. I peered around the room, trying to think of something else to say.
“Thank you. For what you did for ourmammalast night,” she whispered without looking up from the book.
