Page 101 of The Strength Of A Woman

And she’ll give everything to me, and so much more.

My mouth waters at the thought.

My fist hardens around my dick, and I move it firmly, knowing full well that I want to come. I can’t wait to go upstairs and see her again for two reasons now.

I want to feed myself on her again. I also need to learn what happened in the past.

Grunting, I press the back of my head against the door and come at the image of me penetrating her, until dark tears fall down her cheeks.

CALLUM

I feel better.Much better. More settled and in control.

I toss the towel into the hamper and check my appearance in the mirror.

A calm hand arranges a few stray bangs.

I look like I’m about to kill someone, with a smile on my face.

On my way up, I pick up my suit jacket and waistcoat, and I enter the room she’s waiting for me, looking sharp and ready for anything.

It’s the most spacious bathroom in the house, and maybe she’s picked it on purpose, or not, but there’s a lot of room for whatever dark games I’m about to witness.

She’s fully dressed. Her hair is in order. Her face is stripped of emotion or a smile.

“Has he touched you?” It’s the first thing I ask as I walk in, and her eyes meet mine.

“He hasn’t slept with me,” she says.

“Finally, some good news today,” I murmur with dark humor.

“Has he touched you without sleeping with you?”

“Not sexually, no. He liked to watch and brush my hair, though.”

Something twists inside my chest.

“How old were you?”

“Old enough to know it’s wrong. Old enough to bear children. So, old,” she says, her voice heavy, her eyes suddenly downcast, trailing down.

That’s not old.

I walk to her and tilt her chin up to see her eyes.

“We don’t need to do that. You’re probably better off seeing a professional and talking about it. You don’t need a man to do to you what he had done to you.”

“I need to feel in control. That will help me a lot. I felt small and scared with him. It was creepy. And that stupid thing has stayed with me. I want to replace it and remove the memory of that sensation.”

My thumb moves slowly over her cheek.

“Who was that man?”

She shakes her head.

“I can’t tell you. It’s too embarrassing.”

“Nothing is too embarrassing when you’re talking to me. Plus, I could take care of him, make him pay for it.”