Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
For the most part, I thought I could do that. The sex satisfied me. There was no other woman I wanted to be with besides her. I didn’t have fantasies about other women, and I certainly didn’t think about my former lover, Isabella.
But there were moments…of weakness.
Sometimes my thoughts would drift away during the workday, thinking about how Rome would look in my exclusive playroom at Ruin. I would graze the edge of the whip across her delicate skin, making patterns in my movements. And then I would strike without warning, tapping her along her back or her ass.
And also the mound between her legs.
I found myself so aroused that I forced myself to think about work, something I found innately boring. It usually did the trick and caused my cock to deflate like a popped balloon. After a few minutes of tenderness in my balls, that faded away too.
And I returned to calm.
Rome and I didn’t talk about our fight again after we fucked on the kitchen counter. We both took out our rage on one another, fucking to rid the irritation we both felt. I wanted her to change for me, to make a compromise. And she wanted me to be purely vanilla, a man satisfied with straight sex.
We would never meet in the middle.
But since there was no other option, I stayed. I could be with another woman, but that would mean she could be with another man.
And that would certainly make me commit murder.
I worked out vigorously that morning before Rome woke up, going for a long run on the treadmill and then hitting the weights hard. I hadn’t been sticking to my routine lately because I was too depressed when Rome left me. Then when she came back to me, I didn’t want to leave her unprotected just to hit the gym. Getting a private work-out area in my garage seemed to be the best solution to my problem.
I finished a set then sat on the work-out bench, sweat drenched into my clothes and skin. It felt good to work out again. My body finally got to move and feel those endorphins it missed. In some ways, the intensity reminded me of my sessions with a sub—powerful and challenging.
The garage door opened, and Rome stood there in one of my black t-shirts. My clothes were at least three times too big for her, but the shapeless fabric somehow looked sexy on her—probably because it was just another way for me to possess her. “It’s Saturday morning.”
“Your point?”
“Who works out on a Saturday morning?” she asked incredulously.
“A man with a beautiful woman to satisfy.” I racked the weights then wiped the sweat off my forehead with my shirt.
“Well, you could come upstairs and satisfy me,” she said playfully. “And ditch the weights.”
“They go hand in hand.” If I wanted her to remain just as addicted to me as I was to her, I had to keep myself in shape. My body needed to be chiseled from marble, and my muscles needed to be as strong as concrete. Rome loved my size and strength. She never specifically said it, but I could tell.
“I’m gonna make breakfast. You want anything?”
“Egg whites and wheat toast.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s the most boring meal I’ve ever heard of.”
“It’s not so bad.” I massaged my hands because I’d felt the muscles in my joints tighten when I gripped the metal bars of the weights. “I’m gonna shower. I’ll join you in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed me on the lips, not caring about all the sweat. She placed her hand against my chest, right over my damp shirt. She didn’t seem to care about that either because when she pulled away, a smile was on her lips. “I’d love to watch you work out sometime.”
“I’ll do it shirtless, then.” I went upstairs and showered before I joined her at the kitchen table. My boring meal was covered with foil so it would stay warm. I pulled it off then sipped my coffee.
It was obvious neither one of us was going to mention last night. The conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere positive. We’d have to accept each other’s position and make the best of it. Neither one of us wanted to walk away, to be with anyone else. Ignoring the elephant in the room was the only option we had.
Rome took a bite of her single slice of French toast and read the newspaper. Black circles were marked around certain listings, like she was looking up something for sale.
I sipped my coffee then narrowed my eyes to what she was doing. “What are you doing?”
“I was just checking the listings to see what’s available.”
“Listings for what?”
“Apartments.”
I was about to take a bite of my toast when I hesitated. She was thinking about moving out? “Why would you be looking at an apartment?” Was this because of the fight we had last night?