Page 76 of Endgame
It was a mistake on my part.
Because during the thirty minutes I spent as her human pacifier, staring at the mascara smeared down her cheeks, I had time to consider her.
Us.
If she were a stranger and not some princess who spent most of her life hiding in her home, maybe I could’ve met her in a restaurant.
She’d be sitting at another table, laughing. Blushing when she caught me staring at her. I wouldn’t be able to look away, my gaze dark, full of intent, until I’d break and walk over to her and demand her number.
These thoughts are pointless. We didn’t meet in some random place. And I couldn’t be in love with her.
You’re weak,I said to myself, and proceeded to remove her collar then get in the shower with her. We both had our rings on the entire time.
Weak, I screamed inwardly as I dressed her in new clothes I’d ordered just for her.
Finally, I listened to that voice and acted.
Lounge clothes? Comfort? No fucking more.
Instead, I fastened the collar back around Aurora’s neck and chose something revealing for her to wear. A black lace nightgown, sheer and short, barely covering her ass.
The garment wasn’t cheap. It wasn’t humiliating on its own.
It was a lesson. A reminder that Aurora couldn’t hide from me.
But the nightgown wasn’t enough.
She still looked vulnerable.
Soft.
I wanted to hug her.
So I tied her to the headboard.
Being a bastard made it easier to push the warmth aside, along with the wordmine.
I went to bed beside her soon after. There was no comfort in it. There was nothing at all, really. I was as empty as ever.
Hatred rose on its own, same as always, when her dad called earlier this morning. I sent him straight to voicemail. Showered. Dressed.
I feel better now, simmering in anger, my most loyal companion. “Aurora.”
“Mmm.” She’s out of it, turning her face away from me.
“Wake. Up.” I cup her jaw, shaking her head.
Blue eyes flutter open. Confusion clouds them first.
Then recognition.
“No. No.” Aurora flinches. Kicks her heels until she rips herself from me and is seated in bed, her back up against the headboard. Arms straining. “Stay the fuck away.”
She growls, as if she woke up ready to fight.
Her hair is as wild as the glare she’s shooting at me. Her lips are curved in a snarl.
Her pink nipples and pussy are visible through the skimpy lace material.
