Page 146 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

There were a lot of things in my life I had never had control over.

My family’s rise to wealth.

My mother’s eccentricity.

The way I was perceived.

How previous potential lovers reacted to my actual personality.

The accusations of nepotism at my job, no matter how good I was or how hard I worked.

My dad—his car accident—and the deep, very real fear that seeing him so battered had instilled inside me.

Life could be unexpected, terrifying, and impossible to predict.

Having control over George didn’t change all of that. But it grounded me. Like I had a purpose—and that purpose was pleasing George.

That purpose gave me peace.

The parts of me that were usually drifting loose had fallen into place exactly where they were meant to be.

None of my pieces were abstract anymore.

My watch caught the light, a reminder of mortality. A reminder of what I could lose if I didn’t hold tight enough to the things I cared about. Nothing was forever.

And yet…this felt like it surpassed that. Like these moments with George would survive the passage of time in ways even my watch had not. The memories would remain long after we’d gone back to our separate lives.

Our tiny bubble was in sharp focus.

A slice of heaven hidden in the woods, the lap of water kissing the beams beneath our feet.

“Safe words, baby?” I urged, forcing my thoughts back to the present.

“Red, yellow, green,” George replied. He’d taken a second to gather himself like I had. I figured if he was feeling even half of the high I currently was, he needed it.

“And your color right now?” I whispered, sliding in closer. My leg bumped between his, my ankle skimming his and skirting up his inner calf.

“Green.”

“That’s my sweet boy, so obedient.” I dropped my leg before it could make contact with his needy-as-fuck cock, and Georgetwitched. Christ, teasing him was fun. “No.” I crowded against him, my breath ghosting his lips. His dark blue eyes were already glazed with lust, peering at me through pale lashes like I was God himself—like heneededme more than air. Like his heart was beating for me and me alone. It was the kind of attention I’d always craved.

“No complaining,” I chided, our lips brushing.

George sucked in a breath.

“You will take what I give you, nothing less, nothing more.” George’s pulse skipped faster, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings. I applied a bit of pressure to his throat, at the fingers, so as not to cut off his breath—only the blood flow—and only enough to make his knees weak. “You don’t need to fear that,” I said, our lips still barely brushing.

George didn’t press up to connect them.

I didn’t think he would, even if I wasn’t restraining him.

He was simply obedient like that.

“I’m very generous, Duchess. I’ll takeverygood care of you,” my voice dropped gravelly soft.

That was a vow I refused to break. And I think George knew that. Because the swirling storm in his eyes calmed, and he slipped under, under,under. The fog came forth, threatening to overpower his sense of self, and he…heletit.

Simple as that.

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