Page 162 of Heat & Deceit
“A courting gift?” I ask with a gasp and snatch the package from his grasp. “See, Edgar? He’s isn’t here to fight, he’s here to try and get into my loins.”
The guy rears back. “What?”
Ignoring him, I sigh. “If you were a knight, then my heart would be yours to claim.”
“Is he a knight?” Edgar asks, somehow sounding grumpier than before, like a knight would be the worst possible thing that could show up on his doorstep.
I shake my head. “No. Tis only a peasant.” I look at the guy. “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time, but I’m waiting to marry until I find my prince. I’m sure you understand.”
“Lady, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Language,” I scold before snapping the door closed and clutching the poorly wrapped dildo to my chest. If it’s damaged, I’m demanding a refund. I spent more than a pretty penny to buy it. The least the company could’ve done was to put it in proper packaging.
“Fool. You’re too good for the likes of him, Daisy.” Edgar rolls closer, curiosity sparking in his cataract's clouded gaze. “What’s the gift? Cake?”
I chuckle nervously and conceal most of the package with my arm. “Not cake, but there’s still some from yesterday if you’d like a piece.”
“Is it chocolate?” The question is so pure, so childlike that it warms my heart.
“As chocolate as chocolate can get,” I tell him with a big grin. “One piece of cake and a tall glass of milk on the way. Mind the step ladder on your way to the table.”
“The step ladder can look out for me,” Edgar grumbles and wheels himself into the kitchen.
He’s already had a slice of the cake, but I didn’t expect him to remember such a trivial detail. This is the life we live together. I help him live a somewhat normal life, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself and reminding him of things he’s forgotten. I’m surprised he remembers me, given how advanced the disease is, but he does. I like to think that’s because he enjoys my company.
I take my package to my room while Edgar is waiting. I rip off the plastic envelope and hum in approval. It really is as big as they said it would be. Tracing my fingers over the edges, I marvel over the veins that run up either side. Thick. Dark purple. Suction cup bottom. Perfect for mounting it for the bottom of the tub.
“Daisy?”
I squeal and fumble the toy like he had shoutedDrop the dildo, you horny bitch, and come up with your hands raised!
“Chill out, Daisy,” I tell myself as I shove the toy under my pillow. Smoothing my ladybug covered sundress, I head back into the kitchen. For the rest of the day, my stomach flutters in anticipation of my nightly bath and romance book.
#
Two glasses of wine and an hour after Edgar falls asleep, I draw a bath. The guest bathroom is far enough away from where he sleeps that I don’t worry about waking him. The bathroom has become my sanctuary. It’s the least cluttered room in the house; even if it is severely outdated and lined with shelves full of random things. There isn’t even a shower, but that’s fine by me because it gives me an excuse to read smut.
I bring in the new dildo and reverently set it down on a towel at the base of the tub. You’d think it was the Holy Grail with the way I’m handling it, but there’s nothing holy about what I’m going to do with that toy. Sliding off the simple black robe, I step into the bubbly water and sink into the hellfire heat, sighing in contentment. I make quick work of washing up before snatching my e-reader off the floor and opening it to my latest adult fairy tale—you know the kind—and search for the word cock.
Don’t judge, I’m in a mood, and I know what I need.
Satisfied with the appropriate amount of smut, I settle into the bubbles and chew on my bottom lip as the royal meet cute begins. I should probably read different types of smut, but I’m stuck reading the same story over and over. A princess desperate for love. A reluctant prince. Tension. Hot, filthy sex. Happily ever after.
Clearly I have a type.
And if that type has made it literally impossible to enjoy being around real men, then so be it. My fictional princes do it better anyway.
I sip on my wine as my stomach flutters when the prince places his palm low on the princess’ belly and yanks her against his hard body. Yes, that’s what I’m talking about. Get that pussy, Prince whatever your name is. The more I read the more I flush. When my core clenches, I set the wine and book aside and pick up the dildo. My finger and thumb don’t even touch.
Suctioning it to the bottom of the tub, I straddle the toy and grab the e-reader again, dropping straight into the scene as I sink down onto the dildo. I hiss as it stretches me but keep reading. I rock a little and as my body adjusts to the girth, I ease my hips up and down the thick stretch of silicone.
My e-reader shakes in my hand so I drop it back to the towel and slip my hand into the water. Fingers gliding over my aching clit, I continue to use the toy to please myself until my legs begin to quiver. My walls clamp around the toy and I lift my hips all the way up before slamming myself down on it. The bottom of the tub is slick and my knees slip a little. I reach up and clutch the shelf above the tub to anchor myself. I repeat the same motion, moaning at the delicious feeling of being so full.
That’s perfect.
I start to move faster. Things topple off the shelf and something plunks into the tub, but all I can think about is how good it feels. Shivers race down my spine and my toes clench. My clit pulses and I push down hard. I slip and I adjust my grip on the shelf. Something tiny and cold digs into my fingers, biting into my skin and providing just enough pain to complement the pleasure coursing through my body.
Closing my eyes, I wish for a prince with a thick, monster cock who could fuck me properly. Stars burst across my vision and a bright white flash of light fills the room. My stomach drops instead of clenching, and I scream as the world blurs. I fall for what feels like a second before plopping into another bathtub.
