“Get dressed.”
Two words. That’s all he said before he left the room before putting on his sweats and a half sleeved black t-shirt. It amused me how the cold never bothered him as if he was made of ice himself.
I took my time bathing. And contemplated pulling out that… thing… out.
Maybe I should. He wouldn’t know, right?
I remained under the steaming water, letting it cascade over me like a shield against the chill that always seemed to cling to my skin, even in his absence. The thought nagged at me again. That thing. The freaking butt plug. It felt foreign, wrong. My fingers trailed over the spot and the faintest touch ignited the dull ache of its existence.
He wouldn’t know. Couldn’t. Not if I was careful. He barely looked at me unless it was to order me around or remind me of the
