Authors: Jettie Woodruff
and it was rather warm in my room.
I tried to power it on, and it was dead. I looked in
the drawer for the charger and had just gotten it plugged in
when Drew was there. He took it out of my hand like he
knew that I had it. I looked at him confused, not knowing
what to say.
“You shouldn’t read this yet, too much eye
movement,” he smiled.
“How did you know I even had it,” I asked with a
bit more attitude than I meant to expose.
“I didn’t know that you had it. I was just coming to
ask you if you wanted to go for a walk around the
property.”
“Is that something that we used to do?” I asked,
calming down from my accusations of I didn’t know what.
“Yes, all the time, as soon as the sun was down.”
“Sure,” I replied with a smile. It was only ten
o’clock, and I wasn’t really tired anyway. It was obvious
that he wasn’t going to let me read, so I figured I may, as
well.
He shook his head amused when I put on the socks
and sneakers.
“You stop it,” I said, knowing what he was
thinking. I was flirting. Yup, that was what I was doing.
Drew held my hand as we walked around the
property. I let him, and although I couldn’t remember
being in love with him before. I could see myself falling in
love with him all over again.
“What do you do exactly, Drew?” I asked.
“You mean for work?”
“Yeah, I mean you obviously do something that
pays very well.”
He snickered a little. “Diamonds, beautiful
diamonds, I have fifteen stores and just purchased three
more that were getting ready to go under. I have been
patiently waiting for months for them to go under enough to
swoop in and take the burden off their hands with an
exceptionally low price.”
“Did they want to sell?”
“No, but they didn’t really have a choice. My
stores were overpowering them.”
“That’s kind of sad,” I decided out loud.
“That is business,” he replied. He stopped me by
pulling my hand. I spun right into his chest.
I was terrified to look up. I knew that he wanted to
kiss me. Did I want to kiss him? I wasn’t sure, but I was
about to find out. He lifted my chin with his hand and
parted my lips with his tongue.
I pulled myself up on the tips of my toes to get
closer to his lips. I did want to kiss him, and his kiss was
shooting streams of fireworks right to my groin. I wrapped
my arms around his neck, and he pulled me closer. He ran
one hand up the back of my shirt, and the other one through
my hair and to the back of my neck, of course I moaned in
his mouth.
Drew kissed me like that in the dark night of the
back yard for, I didn’t know how long. I could feel his
girth on my stomach. It made me moan again.
“Sleep in my bed tonight,” he whispered, to my
lips.
Was I ready for that? My vagina was telling me
that I was. It wasn’t like I had never had sex with the man
for God’s sake. What was I worried about.
I didn’t answer and Drew led me back to the house
by my hand. What the hell was wrong with me? Did I
forget how to have sex too? I was sure I could keep up, but
there was something that I just couldn’t put a finger on that
scared the hell out of me.
Drew led me right to his room and moved me to
his bed. He slid off my sneakers and socks. He ran his
hands up my bare legs and told me to lie back. I did, and
he removed my shorts and panties. He pulled me back up
and helped me out of my braless shirt. I couldn’t breathe.
He was moving too fast. I wasn’t used to this and wasn’t
sure what to do. I didn’t have to worry about it. Drew took
control and instructively told me what to do.
All of a sudden I was scared. The look on his face
instantly changed, and I was staring into the eyes of Satan.
“Spread your legs,” he said with a tone that I
didn’t like. I didn’t do it.
I trembled when he did it himself. What was he
doing? Why was he making me feel this way? Shouldn’t he
be holding me in his arms, telling me that he loved me, and
it was okay?”
That was the first night that I caught a glimpse or a
vision. I wasn’t sure what the hell it was, but it scared the
hell out of me.
Drew ran his fingers up my slippery folds. My
eyes closed, and I felt faint.
“Do you want to come, Morgan?” he asked in a
voice that was familiar. I just didn’t know why it sounded
familiar.
How the hell was I supposed to answer that? Of
course, I wanted to come. I wanted to come the moment he
touched me down there. He leaned on one elbow beneath
me as his fingers did extraordinary things to me. I was so
close. I was right there ready to climax when the image
flashed through my mind. It was Drew. He hit me across
the face with the back of his hand, and I heard his angry
tone.
“I told you not to come,” the voice echoed through
my mind, and just like that it was gone.
It was enough though. It was enough to scare the
living hell right out of me. I quickly sat up.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, shocked as I grabbed
my clothes and started pulling them on.
“I don’t know what it is. Something.” I assured
him.
He softly took me in his arms. “Morgan?” he said.
“Did you hit me, Drew?” I asked, looking up to
him. I had to.
“What?” he asked like I was crazy. “No. I never
hit you. Why would you ask something like that?”
“I just had a quick image of you hitting me.”
“Baby, I’m sure it’s just your mind playing tricks
on you. Come back to bed with me.”
“I can’t,” I admitted, pulling on my shorts. “I’m not
ready for this.”
I left him and headed back upstairs to my own safe
room, but it didn’t feel at all. I felt far from safe when I
closed my door. I crawled into my bed and tried to relax.
Why did I just see Drew hit me? It was so real. Was it my
subconscious? Did he really hit me? I was probably just
being over sensitive. It was probably nothing. I let my
mind drift off to what was about to happen in his bed. I
knew that I was still wet and more than ready as I recalled
his fingers doing what they were doing.
Before I knew it my own hands were inside of my
panties, pleasing myself. It felt strange. I almost felt like
he was watching me for some reason. I knew that it was
crazy and was probably just in my over active
imagination.
“Stop,” I heard Drew whisper right beside my bed.
I did stop. I tried to conspicuously remove my
hand without him knowing that it was there. How
embarrassing was that? Did he know? Why was he telling
me to stop?
I stared at him with wide eyes as he removed the
covers and ran his hand up my leg. He didn’t look at my
face and again slid me out of my shorts. I was frozen. I
couldn’t move. Twice now I had been on the brink of
orgasm. I wanted to stop him, but I didn’t want to stop
him. I wondered what the chances of him taking care of me
and not making me have sex with him were.
I could tell that he was trying exceedingly hard to
be attentive with me, but for some reason he was fighting
something. I just couldn’t figure out what it was. The
expressions changed rapidly from patient and loving to
vengeance and hate. What the hell was his problem? I
didn’t stop him again. I didn’t have the control. I had a
need that was dying to be filled.
He didn’t let me come. Every time I would get
close he would stop. I wanted to come so bad I could taste
it. What the hell was his problem? The third time that I
was close, and he knew it, he stopped again. He took my
leg and twisted it over my body so that I was half on my
stomach. I wanted to protest, but when I felt his fingers
slide my juices from the front of me all the way to the
back, I couldn’t. I was aroused, scared, and exposed, and
all I could do was lay there and let him have his way. I
knew then that he was the leader in the bedroom. I just
wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I obviously liked it. I did
marry him almost eight years before.
I wasn’t sure how I felt again when I felt his finger
penetrating my anus. I mean. I thought I liked it, but I didn’t
know if I was reacting out of fear or arousal. I grabbed the
sheet and squeezed it into my fist as I felt him slide his
finger into me. The other one had been dancing on my clit
up until that time. He moved it and used his hand to spread
me more as his finger penetrated me, slowly in and out. I
would have to say that it felt better when his finger was
massaging my clitoris, but I still didn’t stop him. I
couldn’t.
I almost panicked when I heard his zipper being
slid down. I wanted to protest and stop him, but it was
almost like I was afraid of him. Why would I be afraid of
him?
I couldn’t believe it. Our first time making love in
who knew how long and he thought that he was going to
put it in my ass? I don’t think so.
That was exactly what he did and I let him. He
brought his knees to the bed and spread me as much as he
could. As soon as I felt his finger slide out I felt the head
of him trying to enter me, I had to protest.
“Drew,” I said, trying to stop him.
“Shhhh,” he countered as he moved in a little
more. “I’ll let you come too, don’t worry.”
What? Why would I worry? That vision suddenly
became so real.
“Give me your hand,” he requested.
I reached my hand to his. I thought he wanted to
hold it, to reassure me. He wanted me to hold myself open
for him so that he could put his hands on the bed to the
sides of me and move in and out of me more forcefully.
This wasn’t what I had in mind for our first time. He did
hold true to his word. He moved into an upright position,
pulling me with him and placed his thumb back to my core
as he pulled me toward him. I called out in agonizing
pleasure as he shoved deep into my ass and released his
own satisfaction.
“God, I missed you,” he whimpered, pulled
himself out of me, kissed me on the head and left.
What the fuck?
What just happened here? I felt violated, hurt,
confused, and dirty. I jumped in the shower and scrubbed
every inch of him off of me. I didn’t love that man. I could
never love someone like him. Did I? No. No. I couldn’t
love him. It was impossible.
I spent the better part of the next day in my room,
afraid to face him after what had happened the night
before. He sent a tray up with the cook, and I ate in my
room. I felt like I was sinking into a hole, some sort of
depression. I sat in the chair by the window and stared out
blankly trying to figure out where I belonged. I didn’t feel
like it was there at all.
Around one in the afternoon, I heard a knock on my
door. When I opened it there was a lady carrying a bag. I
had forgotten all about the dinner party that I was attending
with Drew. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to go somewhere,
but not there with him.
“I’m here to take care of your hair for the night.
Are you ready?”
I didn’t need anyone to take care of my hair. I
could take care of it myself. Did Drew send her?
Of course, I let her in, and we moved to the vanity.
She did my hair and makeup, taking almost two hours. My
butt hurt so badly from sitting, and I squirmed trying to
ease the discomfort.
I followed her to the door and then headed to
Drew’s office.
I was stoned stupid when I stood outside listening
to the conversation between him and Derik.
“She’s not your little slave anymore. I’m telling
you, she is going to make trouble,” I heard Derik say.
“Don’t worry, my friend. I will have her back to
knowing who her master is in no time flat.”
I walked quickly past the door and into the kitchen
with Marta, the cook.
“Can I get a cup of coffee?” I asked. My hair and
makeup was done beautifully, and all I needed to do was
pull on my dress. I didn’t want to go anywhere with Drew.
I felt sick. Slave? Master? What did that mean? Why can’t
I remember? I really need to remember. Something
dreadful happened there. I could feel it.