Chapter 19

Chapter 19

...

I sat numbly in the living room, the sounds of the TV and Edward arguing over the phone filtering in the background. I couldn't understand how everything seemed to have fallen through so quickly. I raked a hand through my hair, blinking slowly as I tried to come to terms with everything.

Somehow, the year Edward spent in therapy with Alice had leaked to the tabloids, and they had already begun digging into it. Questions were flying around as to why the Senator would need therapy, let alone sex therapy.

His political opponents had loved every minute of it, spouting off about how unfit he was to be in public office.

Add to that, the news of his parents impending divorce had found its way into the wrong hands, making the Cullen family the headlines of every tabloid.

"Tanya, I want my publicist on this now!" Edward yelled down the phone before hanging up and cursing in Italian under his breath. He slumped into the armchair, his elbows resting on his knees as he dry washed his face.

His shoulders were caved in, and he held a posture that I hadn't seen him hold before: defeat.

I swallowed tightly, forcing myself to snap out of it, and stood up. My tongue wet my suddenly dry lips as I tried to come up with something to say. I smoothed down jeans unnecessarily before inhaling a deep breath and falling on my knees before him.

"Hey," I murmured to him, pulling his hands away from his face and using my own to frame it. "It's going to be okay. Everything will work itself out," I soothed him. He looked at me from under his eyelashes, his green eyes dull and filled with so many contradicting emotions.

He gave a short, bleak laugh, shaking his head slowly. "I wish I could believe that, but I can't, because this won't work itself out. This is just the beginning of the avalanche that is going to hit. They will start digging further into why I was in therapy, and I guarantee that if they can get hold of the fact that I was in therapy, then they will be able to find the reason why.”

His eyes turned agonized as he continued. "This could ruin me. My whole career, everything that I have worked so hard to obtain, destroyed because of something so insignificant. The worst part is that even if this does just blow over, it will always be like this. It won't matter if I'm in office or not, there will always be someone looking in to what I'm doing and who I'm doing it with. I've been put on some fucking pedestal, and they are just waiting for a chance to knock me off it.”

He sighed loudly, slumping down further in his chair as he leaned back, one arm thrown over his face. "I managed to kid myself that I could have a normal life." He scoffed at his own words. "That in itself is absurd since there is nothing normal about me. I just hate that you have to be dragged into all my bullshit. I was the one that signed into the life sentence, not you. You shouldn't have to suffer through this just because you're with me...”

I decided that it was best for me to interrupt his ranting before his mind spiraled down further into the depths it had already sunk.

"Edward?" I murmured, rising up and straddling his waist. I tried to pull his arm from over his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to budge an inch.

"Papi, we'll make it through this. I don't give a fuck about what they say about you. They can dig all they want, but none of it will change how I feel about you," I told him confidently.

He dropped his arm from his eyes, his pained gaze searing right through me like a serrated blade. "What if they dig into your past?" he murmured. "I can't protect you from the things they'll say. They're like vultures, circling above us just waiting for us to fall so that they can pick our bones off flesh.”

My heart went out to him. I wasn't sure that I could ever get over the fact that this man would always be thinking of me before himself. Even in the midst of this media storm, he was agonizing over the fact that he couldn't protect me from the destructive past that I had chosen to live. He gladly took my burdens from me so often, shouldering the weight I didn't want to carry, and I honestly couldn't love him any more for that fact alone.

To be his top priority, even though he represented this State, was humbling. He always put me first, tried to make me as comfortable as possible, shielded me from the things he could, just so that I could live without worrying over every little detail.

I leaned my forehead against his, staring deeply into his eyes. "Let them. There is nothing they can throw at me that I can't handle. I made my choices, and I have to live with them. Just knowing that I have you by my side every step of the way will make it worth it. There is no place I would rather be than right here, in this apartment, with you. I would give everything up, the money, the luxuries, everything, as long as I knew that at the end of the day you'd be waiting for me.”

"Why?" he murmured, his eyes begging me to say those three little words that always seemed to be at the tip of my tongue. "I need to hear you say it.”

I swallowed tightly. "Because...because I love you," I whispered.

He sagged in relief beneath me, his eyes closing, but not before I saw the tears collecting in his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around me and pulling me deeper into his chest. He let out a shuddering breath as he buried his face into my neck.

His body trembled beneath mine, and I ran my fingers through his hair, scratching my nails gently against his scalp as he tried to get a hold of his emotions. "Shhh," I soothed him.

"You have no idea how much I needed to hear that," he finally murmured after a few minutes of silence, slowly pulling his head back to gaze into my eyes. "I love you, Isabella, so much.”

He threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, using his hold to guide my face to his. His lips were soft and gentle as they pressed against mine, kissing my top and bottom lip, drawing them each briefly into his mouth. He deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue between my parted lips as he tilted my head, our mouths moving harder and passionately.

I lifted myself up on my knees, changing the angle of the kiss as my arms grasped onto him, trying to draw him even closer to me.

Sadly, the phone ringing disrupted our moment. I whimpered as he pulled back, my lips tingling and swollen. He sighed, opening his eyes and releasing his grasp on me. "I should get that," he murmured, looking as reluctant as I felt.

I slipped off his lap and picked up the phone from where Edward had dropped it on the coffee table, offering it to him. He shook his head, running a hand over his face. 

"Speakerphone," he mumbled.

I answered the phone, switching it to speakerphone before curling up on his lap.

"Edward Cullen, what can I do for you?" he said formally.

"Edward, it's your mother," the timid voice on the other side of the phone spoke.

I could tell by the tense set of his shoulders that he wasn't planning on enjoying this phone call. He had been putting off reconciling with his mother, and I doubted that this was how he had hoped that they would reconnect.

He cleared his throat while I kissed along his throat, my hands moving his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles. "I presume you've seen the papers?" he questioned, already knowing the answer, but asking anyway.

"Yes, it...it says you were in...therapy," she said delicately, avoiding mentioning just what kind of therapy he had been in.

He let out a long breath, frustration clear in his expression. He hummed when I touched a particularly tense spot, relaxing slightly into it before wetting his lips with his tongue and turning his attention back to the phone call. "Hmm, yes it does," he muttered, leaning back in his chair and sliding his hands over my back.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in therapy?" she asked, her tone worried, and just like that, he was as stiff as a board again.

"Mother, I love you, I really do, but my reasons for therapy were—and still are—private and personal. I didn't tell you because you simply didn't need to know.”

"I am your mother, of course I need to now," she argued defiantly.

"See, that is where you're wrong," he responded harshly. "I may be your son, but that does not mean that I have to share everything that goes on in my life. There are very good reasons as to why I won't tell you about my time in therapy, and you are just going to have to accept that.”

He slumped back in his chair once he was done, scrunching his eyes closed tightly and breathing heavily through his nose as he tried to rein in his annoyance. I was quick to shift my position, once again straddling him as his fingers lazily dipped under the hem of my top, grazing against my bare skin while I guided his face into my neck.

He inhaled deeply, trying to center himself as he pulled up the back of my top and splayed his hand over my skin.

"All right, if that's how you feel, then I'll leave it alone." I could hear the silent "for now" added onto the end, and I was sure that Edward wasn't oblivious to it either.

She cleared her throat, trying to break the heavy tension that had rained down. "Well, I'm sure you heard about Carlisle's and my impending divorce, and you must be wondering what brought it on.”

"Sure," Edward grunted distractedly as he dragged the tip of his nose down over my collarbone. I shivered from the heat of his breath against my skin as goosebumps popped up, and he snaked his hand further up my back, allowing his other hand to join the first.

"Well," she started, and I gradually began to think that she merely liked to hear the sound of her own voice as she talked. She went on and on about how Carlisle had changed, and how he just wasn't the man she had married anymore. She lamented about his long working hours and how little time they spent together anymore, but I noticed that not once did she mention anything about how he had treated Edward.

Everything about her seemed to make my hackles rise and generate a fierce urge to protect Edward from her callousness. I forced myself to swallow the bitter taste in my mouth that her whining and complaining had left. I honestly wanted to shake her and ask her what her problem was exactly. How could she be so blind to her own son?

It seemed obvious to me that Edward's mother was self-absorbed, not really caring about anything unless it had something to do with her directly or indirectly.

I was suddenly glad that most of his childhood had been spent away from her, his holidays filled with the loving happiness that his grandparents gave freely. I dreaded to think how things would have turned out for him had he not had the easy acceptance of his Nonna and Nonno.

While we were in Italy, I had seen the way his grandparents had watched with an easy peacefulness, content to step back and continue to watch their grandson grow and flourish.

I had been the first girl he had ever brought to meet his grandparents, and Nonna had been quick to tell me how happy she was to see Edward at peace and finally settling down.

It seemed strange to me that Edward's mother had turned out like she had when her parents seemed so supportive and family orientated, but then again, I had never been in an abusive marriage.

I didn't even think Edward was listening to his mother by the time she got round to the fact that she caught Carlisle touching their housekeeper inappropriately.

Edward had his face firmly buried in my cleavage as he played with my bra strap. He seemed relaxed and content, and I felt my heart expand with happiness at the fact that I had successfully coaxed him out of his stress-filled funk.

I stroked his hair, messing around with the thick, silky strands. I was only half listening as she excused herself to go to her book club, hanging up with a quick "love you" without waiting for a reply.

Edward sighed in relief as the dial tone sounded, pulling his face out of my tits and withdrawing his hands. "I don't think I can ever have what I used to with her," he murmured. "She's too blinded by what she sees in the mirror to honestly give us a real shot. I don't want to make myself vulnerable to her when I don't feel like she really cares too much. She never even brought up the fact that we haven't spoken in months.”

He looked up at me, waiting for me to say something. I bit my lip, mulling over what he said before coming up with what I thought was a good answer.

"I hate to say this, Papi, but your mother is kind of self-absorbed. She's hurt you a lot with her ignorance, and she's too wrapped up in herself to notice. I can't tell you what to do about her because that isn't my decision to make, but I don't want to see you hurt over someone who can't even see that they're hurting you. I'll support you whatever you choose.”

"I don't know," he muttered. "I want to just cut my losses—that's what my head is telling me—but she's still my mother and cutting her out of my life completely is just..." he trailed off.

I cupped his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. "I know. Trust me when I tell you that it isn't easy, and it hurts. You feel like you are completely alone without anyone to hold you up if you stumble. I went through it, and it almost destroyed me, but you have people around you who love you for who you are. People who know you, and will support you. You have me, and you have Tanya. You have your grandparents, and, hell, you even have Alice. They all know you, and yet they still love you. You are not alone, Edward, remember that.”

He nodded slowly, digesting my words. "You're right, I'm not alone. I shouldn't allow her to be in my life if she is a negative force." He swallowed tightly. "I think this is it between her and me. I can't allow her to hold so much power over me, to let her drag me down when I have so many people who appreciate and love me for who I am.”

"I'm here for you, Papi, every step of the way. Whatever you need, just ask.”

He lips twitched up in a slight smile. "What would I do without you?" he asked, kissing the corner of my mouth.

"I dread to think," I teased.

He smiled wider at that. "To think we managed to survive without each other for so long when we were both so close.”

"I know," I murmured. "Our paths have probably crossed before. I've been to many of the charity dinners and auctions that I know you support. We were so close, yet so far. I don't think it would have been the right time if we had been together back then.”

He chuckled slightly. "I totally agree with you. I was a completely mess in my personal life for a long time. It's still hard to believe that I get to keep you, let alone the fact that you love me and love our relationship," he admitted.

"Papi, you're the only man who's ever loved me completely and got me. Jacob and Alice understand me, but they can't love me like you do or give me what I need, what I ache for. I need you as much as you need me, don't forget that.”

"Never," he vowed.

...

Silence. It seemed to hover in the air, creating a cool blanket over the apartment as I stood, wearing a robin egg blue babydoll apron, the lace material hugging my curves. My ample tits spilled from the cups, the frilled edge framing them nicely. The fabric narrowed at the waist, revealing the creamy skin of my sides before flaring out at the hips. It was held together at the back by silk ribbons just above my white panties.

I let my hair fall down in waves around my shoulders, the matching blue lace headpiece completing my naughty little maid outfit.

A shudder ran through my body as I heard the key slide into the lock, and I moved closer to the door, ready for his arrival. Excitement ran through me as my tongue slid out to wet my suddenly dry lips, my fingers clenching and unclenching reflexively.

He stepped through the door, his gaze already anticipating my presence.

"May I attend to you this evening, Papi?" I asked sweetly as he dragged his eyes over my scantily clad body hungrily.

I knew we both needed some playtime after the stress of the week, so when he had sent this little outfit to me at lunch with instructions as to my duties of the evening—including waiting by the door for his arrival at six on the dot—I had been nothing but eager.

He knew how much I loved dressing up, and I couldn't help but reminisce about old times, and some of the outfits I had worn for him.

"Yes, you may," he murmured, handing me his briefcase before shrugging out of his coat.

I took them willingly from him, turning to hang his coat up in the closet next to the door while he walked purposefully down the hall, letting his suit jacket fall to the ground as he went.

I hurried after him, picking up his jacket and following the trail of clothing he had left. I loved how his actions teased me subtly, his tie dropped here, his shirt further along, and his belt hung over the back of the couch.

By the time I had collected all of his clothes, his boxers being the last of it, I found myself in his room, my panties moist with arousal.

I hung his suit on a hanger and placed it on the pile for dry cleaning before dumping his underwear in the clothes hamper and scurrying into his office to drop off his briefcase.

By the time I had finished clearing up after him, I could hear the shower running through the open bathroom door. I grabbed two, large fluffy towels, taking a moment to calm my rapidly beating heart before making my way into the bathroom. I had to bite my lip to hold back the whimper that threatened to leave me as I watched him through the glass door, his head thrown back as rivulets of water cascaded down his lean, cut body.

I watched him with a lustful gaze as he raked a hand through his wet hair, while the other snaked down his stomach to his hard, engorged cock. His fingers danced up and down his length, his strokes languid and teasing. The muscles of his stomach clenched as he swiped his thumb over the tip, twisting his fist as his lips parted in a silent moan.

His thrusts quickened, his hips jerking forward in response. He pressed a hand into the tiled wall, his head dipping down under his arm as water continued to drip down his body. My view was slightly obscured by the steam rising from the hot water, but I didn't miss the look of pure ecstasy on his face as he came, spilling his cum all over the tiled wall as his legs buckled slightly.

I wasn't sure for how long I stood there staring dumbly at him before he switched the shower off and stepped out.

I shook myself out of my stupor, offering him the towels. He took the first one, running it over his hair, face and chest before letting it drop on the floor. He took the other towel, wrapping it around his waist as he sauntered past me, leaving me once again to clean up after him. I knew he was making as much mess as possible just to see me run around after him. Usually he was meticulous, not a thing out of place, but he was obviously having some fun with this.

I hung the towel on the heated rail to dry before making my way back into the bedroom just in time to see him pull a pair of charcoal slacks over his bare ass.

I stood in the doorway, unnoticed, as he slipped on a white shirt, tucking it into his slacks and doing up the buttons. He turned toward me, an eyebrow arched as he rolled his sleeves up.

"Did you make dinner as per my instructions?" he asked as I straightened my posture, clasping my hands behind my back as I cast my eyes to the floor.

"Yes, Papi," I murmured.

He hummed. "Good. I want to eat in the dining room in half an hour. Don't keep me waiting.”

With those words, he turned and left the room, barely sparing me a second glance. I knew he would be in his office until the allotted hour, and I hurried downstairs to the kitchen where I had been slaving away for most of the afternoon. I finished clearing up the counter tops and loaded the dishwasher before taking the pot roast from the oven to serve up.

I drained the vegetables and took out the roasted potatoes, arranging it all neatly on a plate before taking out the cutlery and going into the dining room to lay a place for him. We rarely used the dining room, even if it was gorgeous with its cherry-wood table and matching chairs. Heavy crimson curtains hung from windows and a chandelier hung above the table.

It was such a formal room, one designed more for dinner parties than every night dinners so we usually used the table in the kitchen or ate in the living room.

By the time I was ready, the desert was almost finished cooling in the fridge, and the kitchen was pretty much clean.

I pulled my hair away from my neck and took a deep breath as I heard his footsteps coming down the stairs. He went straight into the dining room while I pulled myself together, centering myself before uncorking the red Pinot Noir and bringing it to him.

"Would you like some wine, Papi?" I asked him sweetly.

"That would be lovely," he murmured, his eyes dipping down to my tits that spilled from the top of my babydoll apron as I leant over the table to pour the wine into his glass. I almost jumped when I felt his warm hand on the back of my thigh, rubbing my skin softly. He teased the edge of my panties as I forced myself to focus on not spilling the wine, biting back a moan as he dipped his fingers inside, stroking my slick pussy.

I let out a shuddering breath, my hands tightening around the wine bottle as I pulled it away from his now full glass.

He slowly withdrew his hand, placing it on his lap while he used the other to pick up his glass, silently dismissing me. I turned, my legs feeling a little shaky and walked back into the kitchen, my body strung tightly as energy hummed through my body like a live wire. I finished preparing his plate, making sure the presentation was perfect before bringing to him.

He allowed me to place it in front of him, and I waited with bated breath as he cut into the meat and popped a piece into his mouth, chewing and then swallowing it.

"Delicious," he murmured, and I practically sagged with relief.

"Lean over the table," he ordered, his eyes fixed on his plate as he continued eating. Anticipation jumped through my veins. I stood beside him, leaning my upper body over the table, my hands the only thing keeping me up.

"Spread your legs," he told me, and I obeyed immediately, pushing my ass out further as I placed my legs shoulder width apart. I shivered as he tugged my panties down my thighs, exposing my pink, swollen pussy.

I whimpered as his fingers grazed my folds before sliding between my lips and rubbing my pussy. "You're so wet, my little slut maid. Tell Papi why you're dripping, Bellezza, and he might let you cum," he crooned.

"You make me wet," I moaned out, and he slowed the circuit he was making around my clit.

"You can do better than that, Little One," he scoffed, dragging his wet fingers from my pussy up to my asshole, pressing against it gently as I mewled.

"The clothes," I admitted, and he hummed, letting his fingers drift back down to my aching pussy.

"Does my Bellezza like dressing up as Papi's little slut maid?" he asked, and I nodded furiously.

"Yes," I whimpered, my hips bucking as his fingers circled my entrance.

"Such a dirty little girl. What else made your little pussy drip for me?"

"You," I panted. "In the shower.”

He chuckled lowly. "What part?" he pressed, knowing exactly what part, but wanting me to say it.

"When you...when you...oh god...when you touched your cock," I moaned out. "Please, Papi!”

He gave in easily, thrusting two fingers into my entrance before twisting and scraping them against my g-spot. My legs buckled as I cried out, my walls immediately clinging to his fingers as wetness gushed from me.

"You liked that, didn't you? You wished it was you touching Papi's big cock, bringing him pleasure. You wanted my cum all over your beautiful body, didn't you?”

I was too incoherent to be able to form a response apart from a whimpering keen as he thrust and twisted his fingers expertly inside me, working me over and bringing me closer to the edge. My eyelids fluttered as I felt the coil tightening in my stomach almost to breaking point. My walls spasmed around his fingers as my breathing became shallow, my orgasm just out of reach, and then he stopped.

He pulled his fucking fingers out of my pussy, licked them clean and went back to his dinner like nothing had happened.

I wanted to scream and shout at him for leaving me like this, but I reined in my emotion, letting my arms give out and clenching my hands into fists. The wood was cool under my cheek as I forced myself to count to ten, all the while trying to ignore the burning ache pulsing through my pussy.

He knew exactly what he was doing to me, keeping me on the edge and denying me pleasure, while he acted like I was his disposable toy to play with whenever he felt like it. I focused on my breathing, letting some of the tension drain from my body as I shifted my perception to place me back where I needed to be.

He was my Papi.

He had complete control over my body.

Control that I had given him freely.

My body continued to relax as I listed all the reasons I trusted him unequivocally and irreversibly, letting myself drift in a sea of him.

The clang of the cutlery on his plate brought me back, and my eyes shot open as my senses expanded, cataloguing each rustle and shift of his body.

His chair scraped against the hardwood floor as he pushed away from the table, the darkness of his shadow cloaking my body. He stood behind me, neither moving and or speaking for a long moment.

I swallowed tightly as the familiar clink of his belt resounded through the room. "I think I'm ready for desert," he purred lowly.

"Wrists," he demanded harshly, and I held out of my arms behind me in a silent offering as my chest pressed further into the table.

He gripped my wrists, wrapping the warm leather of his belt around them until they were tightly bound, leaving helpless and vulnerable, spread out for his pleasure as my panties hung uselessly at my thighs.

I felt him tug free the ribbon holding my babydoll apron together before winding his hand in my hair and yanking me back. I cried out as my scalp burned from his harsh treatment, but the juices leaking from my pussy revealed my excitement at his touch.

He held me suspended by my hair as he ripped my babydoll apron from my body, leaving me essentially naked.

"Now, my little slut maid," he drawled. "You are going to be a good little slut and let Papi have his dessert. I want to hear you beg for every stroke my tongue will give your sweet little pussy. You will work for your orgasm, my Bellezza, and if I believe that you've done a good job, I will reward you.”

He released my hair as I whimpered, letting my body slump back against the table while he chuckled.

I shivered as he trailed his hands up the back of my thighs before dipping them between my legs, spreading open the lips of my pussy as his warm breath fanned out across my pussy.

"Please, Papi!" I begged, trying to press back against him.

I squeezed my eyes shut as he dragged his tongue from my entrance to my clit, sweeping it back and forth over my labia achingly slow before stopping.

"Beg harder, slut," he commanded.

"Please, I need it! Please use your tongue on your little slut's pussy," I pleaded, my mind giving into him fully. There was no room for embarrassment or hesitancy; what he asked for, I gave to him willingly. He wanted me to beg and be his little slut, so I obeyed, loving every minute of it.

He could degrade me in any way he saw fit, and all I would feel was pure, unrefined lust toward him.

My begging must have been more effective this time because he sucked my clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over my swollen bud.

"Yes, Papi!" I mewled. "More, your little slut needs more.”

He spread my folds further apart as he buried his face in my pussy, his rhythm too slow to send me over the edge, but too fast not to stimulate me.

Heat flushed through my body, and I trembled, my body quivering and writhing against the table.

"Please, Papi, I want to cum! Please, your little slut's pussy is throbbing and dripping for you. Make me cum!" I babbled.

He placed two fingers at my entrance, pressing against it but not entering me. "Fuck yourself on Papi's fingers," he ordered. I shifted my hips back, pushing down on his fingers and groaning when they entered me. I couldn't get good depth in this position, his fingers only filling me shallowly as I humped them unapologetically.

I was getting frustrated, the pit of my stomach burning, the flames licking almost painfully at me as I teetered on the edge, unable to cum.

"I-I can't," I sobbed in defeat, whimpering as he withdrew completely from me. I barely registered him moving before I was suddenly filled to the hilt, his cock buried deep in my pussy. I screamed, his surprise attack knocking me off kilter and shoving me roughly over the edge. I writhed and thrashed under him, tears gathering my eyes as wave after wave of pleasure drowned me, dragging me under.

My pussy spasmed and my walls collapsed around him as wetness gushed down my thighs and over his cock and balls. My legs started to give out under me as I came down from my orgasm, lights still dancing at the edge of my vision, but he wasn't having any of that.

He pulled me up by my hair, using his other hand to slap me out of my stupor. "Don't even think about it," he growled. "My cock has only just started taking what your body can give." He punctuated his state by pulling his hips back and slamming into me. My pussy was still sensitive from my recent orgasm, making me moan loudly as it continued to spasm around him.

He wasn't gentle as he fucked me, his cock pounding into me, branding my cervix with his name. He possessed my body, my mind, and my heart. He stripped away every layer of decorum from my body until I became his slut who would serve him continuously. He claimed me, bruised me, and took me with such a raw intensity that I knew that there never would be another man who could make me feel this way.

He made me feel powerful and weak, delicate, yet strong, small, yet so big. He made me want to destroy, and he made me want to love. Everything about him pulled me in two different directions, stretching me and pushing me to take more than I ever thought I could handle.

I let out a shuddering breath as he wrapped a hand around my neck, my eyelids fluttering. He caressed it, running his fingers over the column of it, his gentle actions completely contrasting to the way he was slamming into my body.

"Please, Papi!" I begged, arching my neck further into his touch. That seemed to be all the confirmation he needed because he immediately tightened his hold, slowly applying pressure as the pads of his fingers sunk into my flesh.

I shook and shuddered under him as he wrapped an arm around my hips, pulling me back into him as he started to cut off my breathing. My eyes rolled back into my head as pleasure coursed through every crevice in my body.

Having one of my senses cut off always heightened my arousal. It made me hyperaware and hypersensitive to everything around me that I had previously blocked out.

I could hear him panting in my ear, his breath ticking it as the hand gripping my hip flexed with every thrust that he gave me. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on for long, the sensations almost too much for me to bear. I was so wrapped up in the lust misting in my mind that it took me a minute to realize that he had slowed down his thrusts, gently easing back away from the edge as his hand loosened its grip on my neck.

His hand slid down my collarbone, cupping the ripe, soft flesh of my tit, his thumb rolling over the nipple as he attacked my neck with his lips.

"I don't want you cumming again yet," he explained, his voice husky. "I want to draw this out so that I can feel that sweet pussy clenching around my cock for a long time. Is that okay, my little slut maid?”

I nodded vigorously, content to let him do whatever he wanted with me. His thrusts were slow and measured, almost as if he was...making love to me.

I didn't have time to delve deeper into that though since he was guiding my body backward. He twisted me round to face him as he settled back onto the chair he had vacated earlier, his legs spread as he grasped onto my hips to keep me balanced. I was thankful that the chair didn't have arms as he brought me down on him, spearing me on his cock.

He cupped the back of my head, bringing my face to his so that he could kiss me long and deep. I was completely immobile in the position, my wrists bound tightly together behind my back and my legs hanging limply on either side of the chair. There was no way I could ride him, but I couldn't think straight when his lips were drawing me deeper and deeper into him.

I sighed and whimpered against his lips as he lifted me up, sliding me all the way up his cock before letting me drop back down on him. He thrust his hips up to meet mine, grinding his pelvis into me as my mouth went slack against his. My muscles strained and tensed, my toes curling as they scraped along the floor.

The chair wasn't wide enough for the both of us to sit comfortably on it, and it creaked in protest as he moved me over him. I squirmed in his lap, my legs tangling around the legs of the chair to help me gain just an iota of leverage to help me rock on his lap.

He seemed to appreciate my help as he nipped his way up my jaw to my ear. "That's it, my little slut. Work for it," he purred, and I ground down on him, grazing my clit against his pelvis.

My walls fluttered around him as my thighs quivered, my release looming over the horizon. I buried my face in his neck, keening softly as he pulled me further into him, moving me harder and faster up and down his cock until I couldn't hold it any longer.

"I'm close, Papi. Please, can your little slut maid cum?" I begged weakly.

"Yes, Little One, milk Papi's cock.”

I didn't need to hear him say it twice as my mind yielded immediately to his words, causing my body to submit to his words. I was powerless against my orgasm, the walls of my pussy caving in around his cock as he continued to spear me on his cock, his thrusts now erratic, signaling that his own release was imminent.

I cried out his name as I let the pleasure take me. Colors danced across my vision as I drifted helplessly, my body—not my mind—in control. I sunk willingly into the bliss that awaited me on my return to earth, my body exhausted and sated as I sagged against his chest, panting into his neck.

He was careful as he unbound my hands, massaging the muscles of my arms and shoulders as he murmured praise into my ear. His words were soft and filled me with a sense of pride. It was in moments like this that I was his equal, that I was worth his love and guidance.

I grasped onto that feeling, reveling in it as he eased me off his lap, carrying me bridal style to bed and tucking me under the covers.

There was nothing conventional about our relationship, but it didn't stop us from loving each other fully and completely without judgment or hesitation.

He was mine, and I his.

It was a simple fact that I would not let anyone refute. I would fight for him, for us, without holding back.

If the media vultures thought for one moment that they could send me scampering back into the hole I had emerged from, then they had another thing coming, because as long as I had Edward by my side, I would give as good as they gave. If they wanted news, if they wanted a confession, then I would give it to them.

Having this looming over my head was only causing strain on both of us. Right now, we had the control, the upper hand, and it was time to come clean. If we went to them instead of letting them surprise us with it, then we could control how much went out, how much was revealed.

It was time to finally put the past behind me, and if that meant broadcasting it across the state, then so be it.

I loved him, and I knew how much he hated keeping me as his secret, hidden away in our apartment. He wanted to take me on dates and show me off, and I was finally ready for it.

He was worth it.