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Chapter Nine
Elias
“You broke the rules, little doll,” I continue scolding, fingers gently weaving the three pieces of hair together. “You know there are consequences to your actions.”
Every ounce of self-restraint is channeled into the braiding of the strands instead of wrapping my mouth around her nipples that are hardening during her heavy breathing. “But sir-”
“This was not a discussion last night when you arrived home late,” one hand pinches the end of the finished braid while the other retrieves the silky yellow ribbon, “and it is not a discussion now.” Wrapping the material around the edge of the creation, I calmly proceed, “The rules were clear. You are not permitted to dine alone with other men that are not of relation to you.”
“He just wanted my notes!”
“That is not all he wanted.”
“He’s married!”
“So are most senators,” I snidely sneer as I finish tying the ribbon into a bow.
Zel huffs, naked, heaving chest tempting me into disregarding the punishment in order to enjoy her the way I didn’t last night.
The way I wanted, but was too furious – for the wrong reasons – to have.
Yes, I was pissed that she broke our agreement regarding the company she’s allowed to keep out of my presence, but I was more pissed off that my initial irateness didn’t stem from her ignoring the doll rules so much as pure jealousy that another man was granted my time. Time I had been looking forward to spending with her all day. Between her classes, her studying, and my rigorous work schedule, our moments together – whether we are fucking or feasting – are fewer than what they once were.
I hate it.
I hate even more that I hate it.
I hate missing her when she is not at the penthouse.
I hate longing for the papaya scent her newest conditioner leaves lingering in the air.
Perhaps what I hate most of all is how invested I’ve let myself get in something I intended to be temporary.
Finally finished, I scoot my chair back and gesture a hand towards her bed. “Sit.”
Zel relocates from where she had been kneeling on her knees to the edge of the mattress. Without having to be told, she pulls the two braids over her shoulder to deliciously dangle on top of her tits. Her voice is riddled with nervousness something that both now excites and saddens me. “You’re…you’re not gonna cut my hair again, are you?”
I should.
That is what I would do if she were any other doll.
I’d cut it and then cut her contract. Sever any ties we had and send her on her way.
I do not believe in multiple chances.
I do not believe in wasting my time.
Zel’s beautiful eyes widen in a silent plea igniting a pang in my chest much like she did last night when she profusely apologized.
While I have no doubt she didn’t have nefarious intentions nor was she sniffing out a “replacement” for when our time together is scheduled to end, I can’t deny that it hurt to know she was with someone else. And I can’t let the crime, or my pain, go ignored.
“No, little doll.” Leaning back in the chair, I casually cross one leg over the other. “I will not be cutting your hair.”
Relief swiftly spreads through her stare.
“You will sit there, touch yourself with your hair, and beg me for my cock.”
Shock has her jaw tumbling towards her bare lap.
