Page 17 of Rake

But not yet.

I’m going to bring about the sexual awakening of this lovely woman and get us both what we want, but the timing has to be right or I’ll scare her too much. I need to scare her just the right amount.

But I don’t like how much pain she’s in right now.

“Come on,” I say, my voice gentle, coaxing. “You’re making your injury worse.”

She catches her reflection in the mirror and draws her fingers to her neck for a moment.

Sliding my hand to her lower back, I reluctantly stop just above the generous curve of her ass. She lets go of the sink and holds my arm tentatively. Her hands are small, her fingernails covered in peeling nail polish—something my mother never could abide on her daughters.

“Do you like to read?” I ask, walking her out to the living room.

Sasha seems surprised at the question. “Yes,” she answers, her tone suspicious. “Why?”

She eases onto the couch, while I pull a book from my well-stocked shelves. I’ve always been a voracious reader. School was far too easy for me, so I devoured any and all information I could. I learned how to figure out what people wanted at an early age - and how to give or deny them that - to get what I wanted.

It worked with my parents until that last year of high school.

“A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” I say, offering her the book. “Reminds me a little of your situation. I mean having to put off what you want until your brother gets his education.”

She takes it from me, still suspicious. I sit at the other end of the couch, grabbing my book from the end table. It’sLes Liaisons Dangereusesin the original French.

A little on the nose, but an interesting way to maintain my language skills.

I’m fluent in several. My father told me I could’ve been an ambassador, but I’d disappointed him there too.

Sasha’s asleep in minutes, curled into a ball at the end of the sofa. Part of me wants to forgo patience and gently tease her pussy through those yoga pants. Instead I touch her hair, testing to see how deeply asleep she is. Her exhaustion seems to have finally overridden her animal instincts, so I carry her to the bedroom. As I pull back the comforter and place her on my bed, she rewards me with a languorous stretch that arches her back and puts her full breasts on display.

Good thing I’m a gentleman.

I’ll have plenty of time to explore her body later.

I leave a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand and shut the door behind me.

Quickly I clean up the kitchen, and then decide to take a quick shower and get myself off.

My sex drive has always been absurdly high. With women, I draw out the foreplay and build tension as long as possible to create the most intense climax I can.

It’s fun watching the warring factions of their desire and good sense do battle. It’s why I reject my sister Siobhan’s criticism that I use women. In fact, I always give them the fucking of their lives. So good they can’t hate me even if they want to.

Tonight, though, it’s just going to be me, so I climb into the warm water, stroking my cock, imagining Sasha’s pretty little mouth wrapped around it.

That’d keep her from talking our staff into unionizing.

Maybe I’ll fuck her on one of the poker tables and then play the closed-circuit footage for our staff.

You just don’t know who you can trust nowadays. Your union rep could be in bed, so to speak, with the boss’s son.

It’s a compelling idea. I come with a growl, pressing my forehead against the cool tile of the shower as the power of that particular fantasy washes through me.

Satisfied for the moment, I head to the guest bedroom and look forward to bringing my fantasies to life.

5

Sasha

Bolting away from a nightmare, I gasp for breath.

---