Chapter Eleven

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OUTSIDE THE BROWNSTONE, warm air met a gust of cold wind, turning drops of rain into crystal flakes. Abigail watched as the naked trees danced in synchronized motion with the wind.

A flurry settled on the rim of the window. If she'd move just an inch it'd look like the snowflake rested on the tip of her nose just as it had the first time she'd seen snow.

Thankful for the tinted shade, she checked herself for the umpteenth time on the reflection of the window.

She'd made sure her makeup didn't make her look like she was trying too hard, opting for light foundation to cover some of her blemishes. Her lips glossed the rose pink of her cheeks and her hair resembled the serene waves of the ocean.

She looked good.

She felt good.

She smelled even better like that of a rose garden on a breezy day.

Abigail was confident her master would approve. More than anything, she wanted to please him as much as he'd already pleased her with his mere existence. He was everything she'd ever wanted in a man—mean without apology, callous, heartless.

Her thighs closed around the lips of her pussy. She couldn't wait to taste him and have him inside her.

He intrigued her maybe just as much as she intrigued him.

She wondered how he could be ruthless and not think twice to apologize? How he walked his palace like a king wanting to be bowed to and worshipped? Was it he had a big dick and knew how to use it?

She hadn't spent enough time with him to find out, though the dent on his pants had hinted at the possibilities. She was sure she'd find her answers in the two nights they'd spend together...with his other submissive. What was her name, again? Laurelin?

Abigail knew her name, she was just being a jealous broad. She hadn't even met the woman, and she already disliked her. With a feminist as a mother, she knew all about women empowering other women, but she'd already broken the feminist code when she agreed to be owned by a man who promised nothing more but debasement.

Would it make her bisexual if she had sex with another woman? She really needed to talk to Mike about this.

Out of the to-do list she'd made almost a week ago, she only accomplished three tasks. She went to the gynecologist just as her master ordered. She'd gotten a check-up and was tested for all kinds of STDs a person could have. Her results were all negative just as she knew they'd be.

Since Abigail got the contraception shot within the first seven days after the start of her period, she was cleared to have unprotected sex.

She'd waxed herself and edited two chapters of Katie Mahony's book.

But she didn't find the time in her schedule to talk to her brother or have lunch with the mother she worked with. Or buy herself a new pair of underwear. Why would she when Master Trice was going to rip them?

Hearing the familiar sound of her ringtone, Abigail walked to the kitchen to check the screen. She knew who she wanted it to be, and when the caller ID read unknown, her heart skipped a beat.

"Hello?"

"You're wasting my time," he said by way of greeting.

Curiously and precariously, she walked to the window she'd been facing earlier. With a sweep of the curtain, she saw a black SUV parked outside. The roof of the car looked like it had been sprinkled with powdered sugar. How long had he been waiting?

"I'm sorry, Master. I'll be right out," she said to no one. He'd already hung up.

This was going to earn her some beatings. She was sure of it. Pulling a coat from the coat closet in the foyer, she shrugged it on and walked out the door with only her keys and cellphone, just as Master had said.

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