Page 78 of Special Delivery

Paige

Time barely ticks by as I wait for seven PM, when Ryan’s supposed to come. I took three showers today. One in the morning, one when I thought I was getting ready for his arrival, and one when I realized I was already drowning in sweat, courtesy of my nerves. I’ve also shaved and exfoliated every inch of my skin, not that he ever showed he doesn’t appreciate my natural state.

Something about tonight feels different. Like the thin string of yarn that kept my defenses together has snapped, knocking down the wobbly walls and letting him walk straight in.

The yarn is now crumpled into a ball in my stomach, one that can either be from excitement or terror. Or a little of both. Chewing on my bottom lip, I search my dresser for lingerie. It’s been so long since I’ve worn it, but it has to be around here somewhere.

“A-ha!” escapes me when I find a black lace thong and a bra. I slip it over my smooth skin, checking myself out in the mirror. It’s been a while since I saw myself like this, and my vision might deceive me, but I think I look good. My hips have filled out, and the tiny bra cups look like they actually have something inside. The burst of confidence twists my lips into a satisfied smile, one that is quickly replaced by shock when my doorbell rings.

My head snaps toward the door before looking back to my closet. A glance at the door, one more glance at the closet. Should I wear something over this?

Opening the door in a see-through lingerie set would be scandalous, wouldn’t it?

“Fuck it,” I mumble to myself.

The newfound confidence gives a swing to my hips, and I feel like I’m on a runway, making my way to my front door. On a deep, steadying inhale, I open the door.

“H-…fuckkk.” Ryan’s gray eyes dart over my body, as if they’re not sure where to settle. His pupils dilate right in front of my eyes, a tick visible in his jaw.

“What’s this?” I ask, noticing the flowers in his hands.

His eyebrows scrunch before he realizes what I’m talking about. “Oh, it’s for you. They’re potted.”

The colorful flowers will probably need to be transplanted in the garden within a week, but the sentiment still warms my insides. I never told him I don’t like the practice of cutting flowers to make bouquets, but he knows me well enough to have made the connection.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” A chilly breeze washes over me, and I remember I’m practically naked, and my front door is wide open. I retreat to the house, placing the flowers onto my little side table.

“No, you’re beautiful,” he whispers into my ear, prickling my skin with goosebumps. The door clicks behind him, and we’re perfectly still for a long second, my pulse raging in my throat.

His finger moves my hair from my shoulder, revealing the column of my neck. He trails my skin, and my eyes drift closed with the sensation.

“Tell me, Paige. Did you wear this for me?”

“Yes,” I breathe out.

He wraps his hand around my chin, turning my face toward his. His grip isn’t rough, but it’s possessive, showing me I can’t escape, not that I’d want to.

“Do you want to be my good girl tonight?” His eyes are practically black, and my body grows heavy as his words turn me into a horny puddle.

“Yes.”

He brushes his lips over mine, my chin still gripped in his hand. The kiss is too soft, too short, his lips leaving mine right after they’ve connected.

“Good. I love taking care of my good girl.”

His words drip over my skin, pebbling my nipples and sending blood down to my already aching clit. A hand snakes to my back, grabbing my exposed ass cheek, and I let out a gasp.

“Get into the bedroom and lie on your back.”

My pulse thrums in my ears as I do what he says. He joins me not a minute after, missing his jacket and shoes. I’ve never understood the appeal of the gray sweats the internet boasts about until I see Ryan’s cock straining against the thin cotton.

“Already such a good girl for me.” He approaches the bed, and I realize there’s a small gift bag in his hands, one he places onto the bed. “I brought us some presents. But before I show them, I want to know you trust me.”

He looks larger than life, standing at the foot of the bed, fully clothed, while I’m practically naked, my chest heaving on the cool bedding.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you trust me, Paige?”

“Yes.” The word escapes me sooner than I’m able to realize it’s the truth. I do trust him. There’s not much I wouldn’t let him do.