He opens the door to me, already undressed, wearing nothing but a robe. He has a glass of scotch in his hand and I know he will already have an erection beneath his robe. A thrill runs through me, a sick thrill, because I know what we are re-enacting here: his time in the brothels. And the only sick thing about it is that I f*****g love it.
I love being his w***e.
“Hello, Mr. Masters,” I whisper.
His eyes flame with arousal. “Hello, Miss Brielle.” His voice becomes deeper when he’s aroused. I can tell the difference between his personalities now.
Mr. Masters has a deep, commanding tone. Julian has either a playful or sad tone, depending on his mood.
He takes my hand and lifts it to his mouth, kissing it softly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
He leads me into the room and I glance over
