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.
I tried to tell Drew that I didn’t feel well, and I should stay home, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He was making me go, and all of my nerve to tell him no had disappeared with the slave and master remark.
I reluctantly went with him. Derik drove us, and I wondered what role he played in Drew’s business. He seemed to always be around. I stared out the window and jumped when Drew took my hand and smiled at me.
“You okay?” he asked.
No. I wasn’t okay.
“I’m fine,” I smiled a weak smile.
We had to stop at one of his stores on the way to the party, and that did seem familiar. I looked straight ahead in a daze as I took in the jewelry store.
“I’ve been here before,” I stated, mostly to myself.
Drew snorted. “You’ve been here a lot of times.
Go pick out a new set of wedding rings,” he said looking down at the watch on his wrist. “We have to hurry.”
“Where are the ones that I had?” I asked, not understanding.
“They cut them off of you in the wreck.”
“Oh,” that made sense.
I didn’t care about the fancy diamonds, and picked the first set that my eyes landed on.
There weren’t a lot of people at the party. I was glad of that. I did notice right away the man in the wheelchair. I couldn’t remember the name. He wheeled over to us with a smile. He took my hand and admired the wedding set.
“How are you doing, Morgan?” he asked.
“Better,” I lied. I wasn’t better at all, maybe physically, but certainly not emotionally or mentally.
“Well, you look radiant,” he said.
“Thank you.”
Derik’s wife joined us next. She was said to have been my best friend there. I didn’t think so. She didn’t seem like someone that I would be friends with, but I didn’t think a lot of things that seemed to be my life.
“It’s so good to see you,” Jena said.