Bossed Around by Jessa Kane

Author:Jessa Kane [Kane, Jessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-17T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Thea

I never thought much about losing my virginity.

It was always something that would happen far, far down the road. Or not at all.

I definitely never realized I would wake up the morning after and feel so…

Powerful.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I hum to myself and smooth lavender lotion onto my legs. After a small hesitation, I apply more, higher, to my inner thighs and hips. To my breasts and belly. I watch myself in the mirror, hands roaming all over my skin, remembering everything that happened last night in the courtyard. The simultaneous loss of control and gaining of it. The passion and frenzy and…understanding.

That’s it. I feel understood. By Duncan.

I stand and walk to my dresser, taking out a pair of simple blue panties, smooth to the touch. Bordered in dusky pink. My plan is to help Duncan pack the paintings today, so I start to put on jeans and a sweater, then change my mind, donning a short, floaty dress instead. A dress that technically is a slip, usually worn on summer days in the courtyard when the gallery is closed and I want to feel the sun on my skin.

Today I’m wearing it because I want to feel his touch on my skin.

Want to feel it everywhere.

I realize I’m staring into space, my hands climbing my ribcage toward my aroused nipples—and I drop them away. More than anything, I want to go downstairs and forget the ominous stirring inside of me, but…I can’t. I can’t deny that I woke up this morning with the knowledge that something is off. There is something I’m missing.

Something Duncan isn’t telling me.

It’s almost as if I dreamed him up. Suddenly he was here. Suddenly we were connected by some fated force, physical and emotional, and I never had a chance to examine how it all came about. I’ve been too distracted by what he does to me.

What he allows me to do to him.

My breath picks up the pace and I drop my head against my closet door, visions of last night flashing in my mind, his words echoing in my ears.

Anything you give me is good pain. Anything.

You’ll order me to breed you.

Baby’s so tight.

My skin flushes so hot, I retreat to my bathroom and press a cold, wet towel to the back of my neck. And I look myself in the eye over the vanity. I tell myself that today I’m going to ask him questions about his supposed darkness. How he came to be here. Yes, he is from the art packing company I contacted, but he…hasn’t left the gallery once, as far as I can tell. Does he have a home? What happens once he’s done with this job?

I vow I’m going to ask these questions, but when I get downstairs and find him bare-chested, suspenders hanging down from his hips, muscles flexing as he removes a painting from the wall, every sensible notion I have in my head flees like darkness in the face of the sun.

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