I grab a clean towel from the shelves and open it, holding it out, soundlessly telling her to walk toward me.
She does, her steps as light as a feather and as quiet as a kitten. Her body is physical perfection, all creamy, lithe, and small. Especially after I marked it with red bites and hickeys all over her neck, breasts, and thighs.
She’s custom-made for me.
Her silver hair drips all over the tile until she reaches me. And then she attempts to snatch the towel. “I can do it myself.”
I hold it out of reach. “Get in here.”
She glares up at me, lips pursing, but she probably figures out this isn’t a battle worth fighting, so she steps into the towel, so her back faces me.
I wrap it around her, wiping the water away, and accidentally—or not so accidentally—pause on her nipples, waist, pussy, and ass.
Cecily jerks with each brush of my hand against her skin. Due to her poor relationship with her sensory world, she’s sensitive to every external stimulus.
Just to fuck with her, I brush my thumb against her nipple when I finally tie the towel around her.
She grabs the cloth in a tight fist even as her ears grow red. I retrieve another towel and dump it on her hair, then take my time drying it.
Usually, her scent is that of delicate water lilies, but right now, she smells of me.
Not sure which one I like the best.
My fingers slide through her hair, giving every silver strand the same attention. Gliding, caressing, and curling against her skull, then down her nape and bare shoulders.
The longer I touch her, the redder her ears become, and she flinches every time I do something new.
“Why did you choose this color for your hair?”
“Why are you asking?” Her soft voice carries in the space and ends up beneath my skin.
“It’s an unusual color to dye one’s hair to. Commonly, people would try to hide gray hair, no?”
“I guess. Not me, though.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“Try me.” And since when does she care about my opinion?
“White-haired characters are usually my favorites in mangas and anime. They have this intelligent, wise, and reserved aura that I always loved, so I went for it. Not going to lie, it’s a pain to maintain, but it’s worth it.”
“So you love characters like yourself?”
“I’m not intelligent and wise. Reserved, maybe.”
“You’re the smartest and wisest person I know. Except for when you’re being a pain in the ass.”
Red splashes her cheeks as silence pulses between us, heavy with our wild breathing. Neither of us breaks it for long minutes as I continue my task.
“Are you done?” she murmurs in a voice that I’m sure wasn’t supposed to come out so low, erotic, and with every attention of stroking my cock to life.
When I don’t answer, she glances at me. “I think it’s all dry.”
“Not yet.” I grab her chin and turn her attention forward so I can focus.
I go on until I feel her bubbling with that antagonistic energy. Only when I feel she’s about to act on it do I release her.
I throw the towel in the sink. “Follow me.”
She exhales an exasperated breath but marches behind me. “What’s with you and ordering me around?”
“How else will you do as I tell you?” I step to the living room that’s illuminated by the fire’s orange hue. After I carried her to the shower earlier, I lit the fireplace to warm the room.
Cecily observes her surroundings as if it’s the first time she’s been here, her feet padding along the wood floor. “I’d rather not be ordered around.”
“And I’d rather you do as I say.”
That glare, the one full of life and attitude, comes back, but it slowly disappears as she composes herself. “Can you give me some clothes? I want to go home.”
“Not yet.”
“What else do you want?” Despite her attempts to sound cool, her voice shakes at the end.
“It’s early.”
She points at the grandfather clock above the fireplace. “It’s midnight.”
“Which means early.”
“I have classes in the morning.”
“So do I, but you don’t see me whining about it.”
“I’m surprised you even study…” she mutters under her breath, then trails off when she spots her phone and keys on the small coffee table.
Still holding her towel with a death grip, as if that would stop me, she sits on the sofa, legs tucked underneath her, and checks her phone.
Then she listens to a voice message from an obviously drunk Ava.
“Cecy!! I can’t believe you left me…alone, you little bitch. But, like, a pretty bitch. Come back, Cecy… If you’re asleep, I’m gonna wake you up, uh-huh. Also! I bought one of those small packets of M&M’s like the ones Aunt Kim gave us when we were kids. I saved you some, but if you’re not here, I’ll eat them all. I hate it when I’m craving chocolate… Glyn says it’s because I’m sad, but I’m not. Right, Cecy?”
There’s a commotion on the other end before Glyndon’s voice calls in the background. “Ava! Jesus, what the hell are you doing standing in the middle of the road? It’s dangerous!”
“I’m manifesting Cecy. Let’s do it together, Glyn!”
“We should probably go back to the dorm.”
“Nooo—”
And then the voice message is cut off. Cecily releases a long breath and mutters, “This child, I swear.”
I soundlessly slide behind the sofa as she types something—a reply to her friend’s message in a group chat called ‘Foursome.’
After Ava’s VM, there’s a text from none other than my sister.
Annika: It looks like you guys had so much fun. I’m definitely NOT jealous while I sit in my ivory tower.
I narrow my eyes, but I continue reading.
Glyndon: It wasn’t that much fun. Eli showed up and Ava went off, and yeah, it was a disaster.
Ava: In this house, we don’t speak of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.
Glyndon: @Cecily Knight I wish you had been there to calm her down. You’re the only one who knows how. She wouldn’t stop drinking and playing her cello and crying. I think she’s going to sleep now, though. Where are you, anyway?
Cecily’s expression is aimed downward as she types her reply with fast, elegant fingers.
Cecily: Group study. I’ll be late. Please check on Ava @Glyndon King. Put a bucket by her bed and give her a painkiller. Also, wipe her forehead with a cold towel and make sure her alarm is set. You should go to sleep, too, Glyn, it’s late. Didn’t you say you have an important class tomorrow morning?
Glyndon: Yes, Mum! salute emoji
Cecily releases a long breath and I lean over, causing it to get caught before being fully expelled.
“So I’m a group study now?”
She slaps her phone to her chest and slowly glances at me like a character from a horror movie. “Is the concept of privacy foreign to you?”
“Possibly.”
She puffs out an exasperated breath. “I have to go back and check on my friends.”
“They’re adults, and unlike what Glyndon said, you’re not their mother.” I round the sofa and sit beside her.
Cecily scoots up and glues herself to the edge, trying and failing to put some distance between us. I can feel the warmth radiating off her and the hot energy that mirrors mine.
“Don’t,” I grind out.