Chapter 113 Ex-girlfriend

Chapter 113 Ex-girlfriend
Laura.

"Of course, Madame." The man says in response, a pearl-like gleam in his green eyes.
His knees meet the floor before me, and as he crawls over like a little pet, I feel the surge of power rush through me, one I've never felt before.

I never knew being a dominatrix comes with such power.

A smile blooms on my face, and I watch him inch closer. When he's at my feet, he sticks out his tongue as he removes my stilettos and places reverent kisses on my toes.

The rush of power fades, and suddenly, my body curls inward with disgust. Guilt rises, but I swallow it down.

I'm not permitted to feel any of this at all.

Not permitted to think about Michael.

"You're mine, Malishka." His possessive words echo in my mind.

No, Laura, focus on the handsome man at your feet! I howl to myself, panting.

Diligently, the man's lips come up, pasting on my shins down to my calves.

The breath I'm breathing in feels hot, my lungs closing in on themselves.

"I love you, little flame." Michael's words echo again, and with it flares my disgust.

There's this strong urge to push the man at my feet away. To run away from here and wash myself completely clean.

My stomach curls about to combust, to make me retch.

This is about revenge, Laura. Not for fun. I tell myself over and over again, but apparently, my body has a mind of its own.

By the time his lips are on my thighs, nausea rises in my throat.

I try to force it down.

Yet it's not working. I feel repulsed rather than aroused.

Before the man can place his lips on my pussy, I bolt out of the space.

Murmurs rise in my wake.

I don't know where I'm heading, I can't see my way around.

I just run, shoving through the hallway, past people in it who are gawking at me like I've lost my mind.

Maybe I have.

What exactly was I thinking?

That I could really be with another man after Michael had ruined me for them?

What happened during my date night with another man is enough proof I can't be with anyone else again.

Eventually, I find a door that looks like a restroom, and I hop on that chance for privacy.

I push through the door, letting it slam behind me while I hurry over to the sink and barf up all the contents in my stomach.

My eyes are closed tightly, the retching sound deafening to my own ears.

My body itches, but not on the outside; it's on the inside, and I can't even scratch it. I can't even exorcise myself and be spared from this misery, no matter how much I desperately want to.

The more I think about it, the harder I retch, not even bothering with how my hair is covering my face.

I'm lost in a limbo, hot as hell.

But somewhere in between, I feel someone pulling my hair away from my face.

The presence is powerful.

The touch is gentle.

The scent is soothing, cooling the burning flames inside.

I don't need to look to know who that is.

His touch says it.

His presence engraves it in my mind.

Silently, he opens the faucet, and as water rushes out, he uses it to wash my face.

"Drink," It's a one-word command, and my mouth drops open, letting water rush into it.

I rinse my mouth with it and pour it out.

His gentle hands pull me up, turning me to face him.

He hasn't spoken a word regarding my presence here. No accusation. No anger. Just the silent movement of his hands on my hair.

He fishes out a handkerchief from his pocket and dries my face.

All the while, my heart pounds and tears rim my eyes.

"Why are you...doing this?" I croak, unable to help myself.

Michael stares into my eyes and breathes. "Do I need to have a special reason to care for my woman?" That response makes a tear drop. I feel like a fool. "No tears, Malishka." He hums, wiping it away.

"You knew I was here?" My brows arch. I can already feel my face flaming, knowing it's covered with blush.

He nods. "I can never keep my eyes off you again."

Something somersaults inside me, my heart maybe?

Why would he be saying that in a moment like this? God, I hate this man.

"I hate you, Michael. I hate you so much." I hit his chest, needing reasons to despise him. To get away from his man.

"Could there be a reason for that?" He narrows one eye at me, the look penetrating.

I grit out through my teeth. "You ruined me! I wasn't like this before, but look, I can't even stand being touched by..."

Fuck! I can't even bring myself to admit that truth. However, Michael finds delight in my words. His eyes gleam, lips curl in a bold smile.

"I told you, you belong to me as much as I'm yours. So, things like this were bound to happen." He leans into my ear and growls. "The essence of fucking you and making intense love to you is so your body recognizes who makes it cum. Who drives it wild." He kisses the column of my neck. "That person is me, and it can only remain me."

A shiver courses through me. His words, his touches, they're all driving me insane with need.

His lips cover my chin, tongue lapping at the tender flesh while his hand explores my titties.

Arousal like never before overtakes me, tingling my pussy and pebbling my nipples.

I pant. Hard.

My hands hold on tight to the porcelain sink behind me.

Michael hikes up my right leg and circles it around his waist, the position giving him access to my cunt.

His hard shaft throbs against my pussy through the fabric of his pants.

"You smell so good..." he whispers against my skin.

"You knew I was about to do this, and yet you let me?" I ask as he rests his forehead on mine, our noses touching.

He smiles, flicking his thumb over my lips. "Because I trust you'll never carry through with it." He kisses me now, a feather-light touch of our lips. "You'll never cheat on me."

Hearing the word " cheat " reshapes everything.

My anger with him, which drove me here and kept me in this condition, resurfaces.

"Because you know I'd never cheat on you, but what about you? Couldn't you control yourself for a few hours without cheating on me? Without sticking your damn cock in another hole?" I bark, my voice dropping to a lethal hiss. My hackles are out, ready for an attack.

The look on Michael's face makes me give him a mock laugh. I'd never fall for that ruse this time around.

"I cheated on you?" He points to himself and then chuckles humourlessly. "Malishka, when? How?"

Pointing at his chest, I dictate accusingly. "Alicia. Your ex-girlfriend."

Hearing that, Michael pales, looking stunned.

Tbc.