His hand pulled away, and then he was gently backing out of me, the tip of his c**k making me groan as it stretched me one last time before slipping past the rim. I lay there, sleepiness threatening to spirit me away while I heard the sounds of Mr. Drake washing up in a dark alcove at the side of the room.
A warm, soft washcloth ran gently over my body, cleansing me from behind. I sighed as he worked, carefully washing my folds and cheeks, before finally patting me down with a soft towel. Then, he was kneeling before me, undoing the cuffs from my wrists, and I realized I could stand.
He helped me up, and I stood, feeling limp and boneless from our lovemaking. He kissed me gently, cupping my face in his hands.
“Come to bed with me?”
I nodded, and kissed him back, losing myself in the simplicity of being with him, here, like this, away from prying eyes and disapproving mothers. Away from the too-expensive collar and the staff waiting to drive him wherever he wished. Just here. Just us.
He carried me up the stairs to his room like he hadn’t just exhausted himself, then lay me in his bed before climbing in beside me. I snuggled into him as he wrapped his arms around me, noticing with a smile how I seemed to fit so perfectly into that space between his pec and his shoulder. Like it was made just for me.
But when the lights went out, I stayed awake, staring out at the city lights, far below the bedroom windows. Did I fit into any other aspect of Chase Drake’s life, or was it just my own foolish hopes that kept me coming here? Did I fit into that party tonight, or, worse, into that long line of brokenhearted women Lex warned me about?
Did I fit that spot, or was I just as out of place as I felt when I stood next to him in those borrowed clothes?
And if I didn’t, what did that mean for Chase Drake and I?
***
To Be Continued…