Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
14
TILLY
Pulling one of my favorite shirts over my head, it settles into place, and I step back and look at myself in my full-length mirror, grinning at the slogan printed across my tits. My neck, my back, my anxiety attack. Most of my slogan shirts are full of lies, but this one right here, it might be the only one I own that adequately reflects my actual feelings. Kind of.
I don’t have anxiety issues. At least, I didn’t until meeting Caesar and Zeph, but I’m not quite sure what’s bringing on the anxiety. It’s nothing to do with the sex or the sneaking around behind Zeph’s back, but it’s more to do with Caesar himself.
I think I’m breaking my vow.
It’s been a little over a week since I laid in bed and read all about the way he wanted to punish me, and man, did he deliver. I’ve met Caesar three times at Vixen in just this past week. I’m thoroughly fucked out. I didn’t think it was possible. Nobody has ever been able to curb my sexual appetite, not even close, but Caesar has me in a constant state of pure bliss. I’ve never been so satisfied in my life. Only the moment I lay eyes on him, that intense hunger comes roaring back to life.
So much for working him out of my system. I’m starting to think it’s not possible, which only means that when he grows bored of me and kicks me to the curb, I’ll be cursed to live out the rest of my life with mediocre dick, knowing that no matter how good it might be, it’ll never compare to Caesar. Which is exactly why he can’t know that I’m starting to break.
Having feelings for a man is not something I’m comfortable with. Sure, it’s happened on the odd occasion, but that grew out of lust and quickly fizzled away. This is something different. It’s raw and heavy, and I have no idea what to do about it or how to even process it.
Believe me, I’m all for squishing this weird little infatuation inside me so I can get back to focusing on the important things like getting dicked down every night of my life. Yet I find myself wondering what it’d be like to be his—to be the woman he comes home to, to have his arms wrap around me, his lips on mine.
Call it morbid curiosity. But like I said, Caesar can never know that these thoughts have been circling my mind. If he thought for even a second that I might be developing feelings, I’d be tossed aside. He made his terms of our agreement crystal clear, and here I am, on the verge of breaking them.
Being the ever-loving sucker for punishment, I grab my phone off my nightstand and shove it into my back pocket before traipsing out of my apartment and heading straight for his ridiculously oversized mansion to hang out with Zephyr. I mean, who even needs a home that big anyway? I understand some men buy fancy cars and lots of property to overcompensate for the fact they’re either duds in bed or have a micro-dick, but Caesar doesn’t suffer from either of those issues.
There’s been a weirdness between me and Zeph, and while I know our friendship is only new, I truly value it. He brings a lot of happiness into my life, whether it’s sexual or not. I’m not willing to lose that, which is why I’m heading over there now. The last time I saw him, he was helping me clean up my apartment after getting my new couch, then the next thing I knew, Chloe was coming home, and Zeph was out the door within seconds. I never heard from him again.
It’s time I got to the bottom of this shit.
With not a single ounce of traffic on the road, I make it to the Di Rozé mansion within ten minutes, and after practically having made this place my home over the past few weeks, I help myself through the door, not bothering to wait for Zeph to welcome me in. He usually just screams from the living room or the top of the stairs to let myself in anyway.
“Zeph?” I call, striding through the foyer and following the subtle noises of what I can only assume is a video game coming from upstairs.
I take the stairs two at a time, and the closer I get toward the den, the more obvious it becomes that Zeph isn’t alone, though I don’t think it’s another girl. A friend, perhaps. Either way, I don’t care. As long as his friend is okay with me interrogating Zephyr until he cracks.
“Tilly? That you?” Zeph calls from the upstairs den.
“Yep.”
I keep going, reaching the den only a moment later before striding through the open doorway and coming to an immediate stop, realizing the friend he has over is none other than Jordan, the asshole who accosted me on the sidewalk and demanded I fuck him out of some moral obligation.