Pain And Pleasure 18+✓

Sixteen

Sometimes what you see is not what you get. I didn't realize this evening could positively change something in me until now that I feel different, upgraded, the old and disintegrated version of me slowly unblurring into someone strong.

I may not have my sight yet, thanks to the awful blindfold that I'm used to by now, but I have this sense of safety and confidence redeemed in just one sexual intercourse with a stranger. Those pieces of a broken woman in me are slowly restored.

I am beautiful. He makes me feel that and more. He's crumbled the wall of doubt I've personally built by believing otherwise.

"I have to go, Arabella," he states in a lazy whisper, interrupting my deep thoughts. I don't move from his arms, for it's the last thing I want to do. "Are you sleeping?" The gentleness of his lips scraping mine feels intimate.

And now, more than ever, I don't want him to go. But it shouldn't be this way—I shouldn't get comfortable by any means.

"No, I'm not sleeping," I breathe.

"Thinking then?" His rough knuckled graze my cheek almost adorably.

Instinctively I pull his face down and serve myself a little more of his lips. He lets me, and deeply our kiss goes until I'm breathless, and it's not wild but gentle.

Stop, Arabella! My inner wisdom yells.

"If you keep this up I'll fuck you again," he mutters, his voice wild and enticing. Playful even. I smile fondly, reprieved that he can't resist much. "And I think that's your intention."

"No, it's not." I giggle, and his laughter comes out carefree.

Becoming a sex addict on our first involvement? No, let's not go overboard.

"So you deposited the money even before I gave you what you wanted?" I ask.

I hate to admit it, but this is more important to me than the exquisite sex of my life.

"Yes, I did," he replies.

"Why?"

An easy contemplative silence ensues until he whispers, "I believed you'd say yes... and you did. No more questions, Arabella."

And more questions mount in my head. That was more confusing than constitutional affairs. Why do I feel like there's more to it?

"Well, for someone who buys sex... that was surely generous and foolish at the same time," I blurt out, no pun intended.

He strokes my face tenderly, mothering a laugh. "I think there's some misunderstanding between us, Arabella." He sighs deeply; I wonder what he means by that. "I don't buy sex," he adds sternly.

"Oh?" I frown, confused.

"Look," he goes on, withdrawing all the touching and teasing. "The only thing I'm paying you for is your time. I'm a very demanding person, and you should know time is an asset. I'll need you whenever I want to need you, and that's why it needs to be compensated. Quit thinking that you're selling your body to me, because if I want to buy you, Arabella, I'll buy more than just your body. I'll buy all of you and I'm not sure you're ready for that."

I'm hypnotized by his voice, innervated by his words, and amused by his superiority. He knows what to say every time, doesn't he? I take off this blindfold, but I know the repercussions.

And so, is this supposed to make me feel better? That he's perhaps different from the men I serve drinks in casinos? That he's an improvised version of sadistic ones I know by heart? He's confusing me.

"I see no difference. All I know is that I want your money desperately, and to get that I ought to comply with all of your demands. Don't try to romanticize our situation, Mister Castle, because I'm smart enough to understand what kind of game we're playing," I say my thoughts without a filter. "And also, I'm okay with it. You take what you can take, and I'll get what I can get. I'm a practical woman—life taught me to be one, so don't build me a sandy castle that will crush away at the first wave it comes across."