Page 23 of The Count

I didn’t typically sleep this way. I blinked several times, finally coming to the realization that last night wasn’t just a nightmare or a dream. It had all been real.

I brushed my thighs against one another. His seed was still there, sticky, wet in places, dry in others. I blushed and closed my eyes, thankful that I was alone, and no one could see me like this.

Dmitri Alucard had actually spanked me, punished my asshole with ginger root, and fucked me over the kitchen table in his own home. The worst part of it all was that I’d enjoyed it enough to come not just once, but four times.

I pressed my hands to my face as if I could hide from my shame even as it seared through me.

Then I remembered that he’d said we would have dinner together.

I’d have to face him tonight.

A strangled cry left my throat even as my clit throbbed. I wanted to reach between my thighs and spank it myself for being such a wretched little traitor, but I knew that would remind me of him even more.

Of his hand smacking my ass hard enough to make me beg.

Of his hand between my thighs.

Of his big cock sinking into me.

Fuck me. I was hopeless.

Needing to do something to take my mind off what had occurred downstairs in the kitchen, I pushed the covers off of me. I padded over to my bag and dug out my toiletries, wandering into the attached bathroom.

Again, I noticed the very distinct lack of mirrors.

I turned on the water in the tiled rain shower, stepping inside when the glass-walled stall was swirling with steam. I turned down the heat a bit and settled under the spray, just relaxing under the water for several long minutes before I began washing myself.

I explored my body with my fingers. My pussy ached. My clit was still very sensitive to the touch. My hips were marked with purple bruises from his fingers holding onto me while he fucked me. I squeezed my bottom lightly, wincing from the soreness from the spanking. With extreme hesitation, I spread my cheeks and brushed a single finger over my asshole.

It wasn’t as sore as I’d expected it would be. There was no lasting heat from the ginger, and I sighed with relief.

All in all, my body was fine. My mind, however, would be much slower to recover.

I scrubbed all over, thinking about last night even when I didn’t want to. I should be angrier, furious even, that he’d had the nerve to punish me like that, but I couldn’t bring myself to be.

The truth was that it had been the best night of my life. I’d learned things about myself that I would have never known because of him.

I wasn’t a virgin anymore. He’d taken my innocence and crushed it while showing me the magnificence that awaited me in its wake.

I took my time washing up simply because I wanted to. I used my favorite peach coconut oil exfoliator. I shaved and lathered a few conditioners in my air. When I was done, I rinsed off and finally turned off the water.

Surprisingly, it had never gone cold.

I wrapped myself in a towel and went back into the bedroom. I gazed out the window into the colorful gardens, admiring the rich blue of the hydrangeas in full bloom. With a smile, I decided to walk through the garden in person this afternoon, maybe even while listening to music with the sunshine warming my face.

I could get used to this.

Finally, I turned around and unpacked my bag, hanging up all my things in the big closet so that they wouldn’t get wrinkled. I choose a simple purple summer dress that was professional enough to wear in front of clients, while also comfortable enough to wear whenever I wanted to be just a little dressy.

I reached for the door handle, somewhat expecting it to be locked but it turned with ease. I shook my head.

Maybe that part had actually been just a figment of my imagination.

I opened the door, finding my clothes from the night before in a neat pile on the floor. My panties were folded tidily on top. They’d been washed. With a mortified gasp, I picked them up and brought them inside my room so that no one else could see the evidence of my shame.

Shaking it off as much as I could, I walked down to the main floor where the delectable scent of breakfast wafted toward me. I excitedly went into the dining room to see John setting up myriad covered plates on the table.

“Good morning, Mina,” he grinned. He was always so warm. “Breakfast is ready for you. Would you like your coffee as you did yesterday?”

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