Mr. Flynn (Mr. Dominant)

Chapter 8: Dead Meat

Going to the animal shelter was not the best idea.

Now, I have a fucking kitten to deal with - the one that caught my eye. How did Anna know? I feel my breathing become harsher as anger courses through my blood, making it sing. No, no, no. "What did she tell you?" I demand, turning to face Valentine.

He shrugs apologetically, giving me a blank expression. " 'You'll know it when you see it.' That's all she said. And, I don't know how she found my number - I find that strange and . . . eerie." His mouth sets into a grim line.

Jeez, this is all so confusing. Sex, flowers, more sex, a coffee cup - and now a fucking kitten? The kitten meows - it actually comes out more of a squeak, but you know . . . I eye it out, studying its sitting position. "Do you think it's a girl?" I ask Valentine, picking the furball up.

He smiles, shaking his head. "I asked the lady, she smirked at me and nodded at his ballsack." I flush crimson, looking down at his rear end. Well, she's right. "What am I going to name him?" Sighing, I set him down on the bed and turn to face Mr. Flynn.

He pulls me into his arms, kissing me tenderly. "Whatever you'd like. Whatever suits him - ask Annabeth for help." Ask Annabeth for help? Um, no thanks, the only think she can help me with is to fuck off. Why the hell would she tell Valentine about my birthday?

I mean, of course I love the gifts . . . but I didn't want anything. Having him . . . literally - was enough. This is all sort of fucked up. In a way, I don't want to accept the gifts. I just want to scream and run out of the house and go punch Anna in the face.

But brawling isn't really my thing - especially after the birthday-brawl incident. "What's wrong? You didn't like him? Was the mug okay? Do you need-" I put my index finger over his soft lips that make my groin damp with carnal desire.

He looks down at me, taking my hand and gently kissing my knuckles. I bite my lip, looking into his hazel eyes. "I love everything that you gave me." My hands cup his stubble cheeks, and I kiss him. I shove my tongue in between his lips, and he welcomes it.

Our tongues stroke each other, entwining into one. He pulls back, breathing out hard. "No, I won't be late because of sex with you again," he scolds me, sucking on my lip. I gasp, flushing under his burning gaze. Crap, what time is is, anyway? I pull back, turning to face the white fluff ball.

"Kitty Bennet," I mutter to myself. Yes - that's his name. "Kitty Bennet?" Valentine's voice interrupts my thoughts. Damn, does this man have robot ears? I nod, facing Valentine. "From the work of Jane Austen." He says slowly, nodding. "Pride and Prejudice," I say softly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's a woman." He states flatly, rolling his eyes.

I giggle, nodding and he smirks. "I need to use the bathroom."

"In my room to the right," he nods towards the door.

Remembering the way, I pace down the hallway and into Valentine's bedroom. I open the door on the right, entering a massive white-tiled bathroom with a huge bathtub and a squared shower. Jeez, this man is rich. I had no idea professors made so much - but then, it's his second year of teaching. I wonder idly what his other employments were at before being a History professor.

My eyes narrow at my reflection. I scratch my neck, blinking a few times before my eye catches something. Holy fuck - I gasp, pulling down the collar of my shirt (well, Anna's shirt). Holy fucking Moses, Valentine, what did you do? On my neck is three huge, red blotches of blood.

Love bites.

No, we didn't make love. We fucked.

Fuck bites.