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The sight of her, asleep and peaceful, stirs a warmth in me, a fierce protectiveness mingled with a desire I’ve vowed to keep at bay.
She’s facing away, her form outlined by the blankets, with just a hint of her silhouette visible in the dim light. The sight of her, so vulnerable and yet so close, stirs something deep within me.
It’s a mixture of protectiveness and a raw, undeniable desire—a longing that I’ve been fighting to keep at bay since the moment I claimed her at the auction.
She moves, moaning slightly in her sleep, and the urge to wrap her in my arms is overwhelming. The blankets slip down, and I can see her ass in the tiny pajama shorts I left in there for her.
Her curves bring my cock to life, and I can’t resist stroking it, easing the throbbing need that roars through me.
She shifts again, her legs spread a little apart. I can see the very tops of her thighs. The slightest nudge of the fabric, and I’d be looking at her sweet pussy.
I stroke myself harder, staring at that ass, getting close to the edge in less than a minute. As I bring myself to the brink, I swear she pushes her hips back toward me as if she wants me inside her.
A moment later, I’m spurting onto the towel, managing to remain silent but only just.
At once, what I’ve done hits me. I retreat, going through to my own room and tossing my towel into the laundry.
I climb into bed, my body sated for now, but my mind races, unable to dismiss the thought of her luscious, unspoiled curves.
It’s not enough. I want more.
5
AMELIA
Iwake up, disoriented, in the sumptuous guest room Rafael assigned to me. It’s still dark, and memories of last night swirl in my mind.
Five million to spend one night with me.
I guess the deal is done. Soon the sun will come up, and our night together will be over.
I watched him last night while he touched himself. His reflection in the bedroom mirror gave him away, and I watched, my eyes half open, my pussy aching with need.
He was naked, his towel in one hand, his cock in the other. He stroked it while he looked at me, his eyes fixed on my ass.
I found myself pushing back toward him, wanting him to come and take me. He didn’t, of course. Instead, I got to see him come, and then he was gone, back to his own room. I wasn’t brave enough to ask him to stay with me.
The depth of my desire for Rafael scares me. It’s not just the physical attraction; it’s the craving for his dominance, for the overwhelming intensity he exudes.
It’s a dangerous game, this obsession with a man who wears his power like a second skin, whose motivations remain a mystery.
I close my eyes, memories of last night forcing themselves to the front of my mind. A hand slides down my pajama shorts, finding my already wet pussy.
I stroke my clit as I imagine him coming into my room, ripping my clothes off me, forcing himself upon me, thrusting into me for the first time in my life. How good would that feel?
It doesn’t take long for me to reach a climax, his name on my lips as my orgasm courses through me. I let my hand fall to my side, my breathing returning to normal.
As I drift back to sleep, the image of Rafael watching me in the mirror is the last thought that lingers.
* * *
Later, I’m pulled from the depths of a restless sleep. My heart still races from the remnants of dreams that felt all too real, images of Rafael that linger on the edge of my waking thoughts.
With a deep breath, I force myself to sit up, the reality of my surroundings crashing back into focus.
I glance at my phone, the screen lighting up with notifications that pull me further from the remnants of sleep.
Messages from my parents, confirmation of the transfer—Rafael didn’t just pay for me; he ensured my family’s safety and their debts cleared.
