Like The Devil (BxB)

Entry 1: Carlen's Wedding

It was an interesting feeling. Waking up beside someone familiar.
His arms always tightened around me first thing in the morning as he buried his face in the back of my head, inhaling hard.

It was comforting, nearly affectionate as if he longed for my qualities.

Sometimes if he was awfully quiet first thing in the morning, I would find myself taunted as his hands slid down my front and took hold of something else.

My natural response to tilt my head back and whimper.

He didn't say much in those moments.
It must have been something about control because he never asked to have sex first thing in the morning.

No. This demon only came out in the night and during the day he practised self restraint.

It didn't mean he kept his hands to himself though. Mr Russworth spoiled me heavily but also wore his nature on his sleeve.

I had my own little room. It was cute. He had decorated it before I was asked to live with him. I had my own vanity table, a walk in wardrobe, make up, heels and jewellery.

Contrary to popular belief. Not all toys cared for make up and heels. I was one of those people. The only reason I did it was because Carlen was always meeting important people. Regardless that they were expected to pretend we didn't exist we still had to look classy, make up and heels were like our own badge of " I belong to this rich bastard"

If I wore my own clothes it was a sign of rebellion.
Hell even if people asked about us or talked to us in a way deemed inappropriate. They were handled.

Mr Russworth's rules were;
• Nobody but me
• Don't speak unless spoken to
• Never embarrass me

Fairly simple right?

Well. The first time I'd gone somewhere with him was to a business meeting with another huge name. The older man ( He must have been eighty considering Carlen's near forty for Gods sake) asked how much I was worth.

Surprisingly I never heard about the man again and apparently the business proposition "fell through" on undisclosed terms.

Carlen had been really fucking mean that week, ignoring me.
Especially because when asked how much I was worth I joked
" Russ-worth "

....badum tsh

If that taught me anything, it was that Carlen doesn't have a sense of humour. Regardless that he keeps his composure in public he'd locked me in my room once we'd returned.

On another occasion we were at a friends party and a man had groped me and told me to meet him outside.

Carlen had forced me to stand with him in a dingy stupid alley as he had that man beaten by the guards.
I had begged him to stop several times but that only lead to him leering at me.
Only until he was satisfied he'd told them to stop.

The guards were cold hearted machines themselves.

So. You can probably tell why I wasn't looking forward to being his permanent live in.

I woke up fighting with my curls, monitoring the black eye, I had received courtesy of my owner.

This morning, I was pissed off.
I could see him creeping up behind me in the vanity mirror, he was still in nothing but his boxers as he stalked over petting my shoulder softly.

" Are you coming to the wedding or not?" He groaned irritatedly and I scoffed sticking bobby pins into my hair.

" No. I'm going to go visit a friend."