Then he turned me around so my back was to the mirror. I couldn’t help it—I gasped.
The sight was shocking. And, honestly, a little alarming. I’d never seem my skin like that. My ass was completely black and blue.
“It’s only going to get worse over the next twenty-four hours,” Phantom said. “You’re going to want to take Advil. One every four hours. Lots of water. Lots of rest.”
It was an out of body experience, looking at myself like that. All I could think was:that’s me. He claimed me.
A strange, twisted pride snuck up in my chest.Look what I’m capable of.
His hands rubbed over my arms. Those hands that left these vicious bruises were nothing but tender now.
“When can I see you next?” I asked.
“There’s a party every Friday.”
I pouted. “That’s a whole week.”
“Rest. Recover. There’s no need to rush this part, Ophelia.”
“What part is that, exactly?”
He put his hand under my chin and tilted my head upwards. His eyes fixed on mine in the mirror. “Your training.”
“For the submissive Olympics?”
A humored grunt from him. “For you to be mine.”
His body was hard, strong, and so warm behind me. I could melt into his embrace. I tilted my head towards his, nuzzling. “Will you kiss me?”
Strangely, his body stiffened at the request. A hint of confusion crossed his face.
“Unless…” I faltered. “Is that off limits?”
“No,” he said. He took my face in his hand. There was a shift in his expression, like he’d worked something out inside of himself and made a decision. “Kissing is not off limits,” he repeated, the confidence back in his voice. “Not for you.”
He closed his mouth over mine and I felt like I’d won some secret, sacred prize. His lips were gentle and sweet against mine. I pushed myself up on my toes to be closer to him, leaning in. I invited myself into his mouth and he accepted, opening to me. I wanted to crawl into his mouth and live there. I swiped my tongue over his and was rewarded with a tiny, irrepressible groan. Oh.Delicious. I wanted that sound again and again, but he restrained me and my insatiable need, sealing the kiss and pulling back. His hands slid over my shoulders and he gave me a light squeeze.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s put on your clothes.”
13
Ophelia.Then.
I opened my eyes and, for a minute, I didn’t recognize my own room.
I recognized the sheer purple curtains that hung from my window, the morning light making the color pleasantly muddy. I knew the cozy, fluffy comforter that swallowed me whole. I spotted the mess of half-melted candles, incense sticks, and small totems that comprised my mini-Artemis altar, side-by-side with pictures of my family all jumbled together on top of my dresser.
It was my room, but it felt all wrong. My body was here, but my mind was still at the Seekers Club. The emotional hangover wasreal. I didn’t have anywhere to be in the morning—it was a dark day for the theatre, which meant I had the morning to myself. It was suspiciously quiet in my apartment, and a quick peek outside led me to a note on the kitchen table.Took the kids to see our parents. Be back tonight.
I was dying of thirst, so I poured myself a glass of water, downed the contents, and crawled back into bed. Here, I tookstock of my body. The delicious soreness in my ass. The ache in my cunt, which already missed his fingers inside of it. The buzzing on my lips, which still felt the ghost of his kiss.
Phantom. Phantom, Phantom,Phantom…
What to make of Phantom?
Phantom had moments of hot-and-cold. I could feel him holding back, even during our…what did he call it? Ourplay session.
But I didn’t get the impression he wasuninterested. In fact, I felt the opposite. The interest wasthere. I could hear it in the way he mutteredfuckunder his breath when I came around his fingers. I could taste it when he moaned into my kiss. This man hadbucketsof interest for me. I’d drown in it, happily, if he’d just release that vice-like grip on his self-control.
