Page 22 of No Words
As night falls, I set up a watch rotation: three hours on, three hours off. The first watch is mine. I take position by the window, monitoring the forest while Molly sleeps.
I hear the shower running, then silence. Minutes later, she emerges wearing another of my t-shirts, hair damp, skin flushed from the hot water. She hesitates in the doorway, caught between retreat and approach.
“You should get some sleep,” I suggest, keeping my eyes on the monitors.
“I’m not tired.” She steps closer, her bare feet silent on the wooden floor. “I can take first watch if you want to rest.”
“That’s not how this works,” I say, finally turning to look at her. “I protect you. That’s the arrangement.”
She stands her ground. “And who protects you?”
The question catches me off guard. Few people have ever worried about my safety.
“I take care of myself,” I answer, studying her. “We need to discuss what happened earlier.”
Her cheeks color immediately. “I’d rather not.”
“I didn’t ask what you’d rather do.” My tone leaves no room for argument. “Come here.”
She approaches slowly, stopping just outside my reach. I pat the space beside me on the couch. She sits perched on the edge as if she might bolt.
“What you did earlier,” I begin, voice deliberately neutral, “touching yourself without permission, that was against the rules.”
Her eyes widen. “Rules? We never established any?—”
“We did,” I interrupt. “When I told you in the shower that your body responds to my command now. I made it clear that your pleasure belongs to me.”
Her breathing quickens. “That’s... presumptuous.”
“Is it?” I reach out, tracing one finger along her collarbone. “Tell me you don’t crave what I’m offering, and I’ll stop. We’ll pretend none of it happened.”
She remains silent, pulse visible in her throat.
“That’s what I thought,” I breathe. “Stand up.”
After a beat, she complies. I rise too, towering over her smaller frame.
“Turn around, face the window.” Again, she obeys, her body language a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. “Hands on the glass. Legs apart.”
She places her palms against the cold window, positioning herself as instructed. Outside, darkness has fallen completely. Anyone watching would see her silhouette perfectly framed, but I know we’re alone. The threat is still hours away.
“This is a reminder,” I tell her, moving to stand behind her, close enough that she feels my heat but not touching her. “Your pussy belongs to me now. Not to your own fingers. Not to anyone else. To me.”
I brush her hair aside, exposing her neck. “Do you understand?”
She nods, a barely perceptible movement.
“Say it,” I command. “Tell me who owns your pleasure.”
Her voice comes out breathless. “You do.”
“Good girl.” I reward her with a gentle kiss at the nape of her neck. “And good girls get rewarded. Bad girls...” I let my hand slide down her side, feeling her shiver. “Bad girls get punished.”
I step backwards slightly. “Lift the shirt.”
She hesitates, aware of her exposure in the window.
“No one can see,” I assure her. “Just me. And you want me to see, don’t you?”
