Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I mean, Isaak’s not complaining.
But still. I’ll wake up to him slightly hard against me with morning wood and I get out of control.
“Remember this morning?” I ask, blinking up at him.
“Oh I remember. But tell me about it anyway. In detail.” He grabs my wrists and secures them behind my back in one of his big hands and I breathe out, breasts heaving up towards him as my belly swoops with need.
“You weren’t awake yet but you’d been having a good dream—”
“I wasn’t dreaming at all and that’s what was so wonderful. I was just passed out all night happy as fuck pressed up against your hot little body. That’s all it takes for my johnson to stand at attention. Awake or asleep.”
He leans down and kisses me. Not a quick peck, but far shorter than I would prefer. It’s true though. He has been sleeping through the night more without disturbing dreams. He only had one the whole last month. And he’s been staying in our bed.
“But I was a little sleepy, so why don’t you remind me while we walk this way.” He leads me towards the other end of the club. Halfway there, he pauses to pull my black dress up and over my head, twisting it to bind my arms at my back and leave me otherwise completely naked.
I didn’t wear a bra or underwear, and I breathe out hard at seeing others in the club notice me.
Isaak’s realized just how much I enjoy eyes on me.
Turns out my voyeurism kink goes both ways. I don’t just like to watch. I like it when I’m being watched while Isaak does the most debauched things to me. It turns everything up a notch—sometimes several notches, depending on what he’s doing.
And it turns out I love when he takes control during these sessions at the club.
In the rest of my life, I want to be in complete control. In my classroom at school with my students. When I’m doing my doctoral research and working with Dr. Ezra on his projects. Whenever I’m dealing with my parents. My dad’s actually been reaching out more lately. Trying to make amends even though he was such a shit at the wedding. He feels bad. Rightly so. Apparently my brother, Matthew, finally stood up to him and let him have it about not listening to me when I warned him who Drew was.
I was shocked on both accounts. Matthew ignored me his whole life, but he and I have spent some time on the phone lately, too. He wants to move back here sometime this year. He said he wants to get to know his niece or nephew and intends to take being an uncle seriously.
My whole life I tried so hard to fit in. With my family and with the strange plastic society they lived in—neither of which seemed to ever want me.
And right when I walk away, suddenly both are willing to embrace me.
There was a big outpouring from the community after Drew’s death. Okay, not right at first, when his father was still trying to push a narrative that Isaak and I had murdered his son even though everyone had been in the church when Drew fired the first shot and there was security footage backing up our story. But then it all came out that his father, the esteemed Senator, had been accepting bribes to vote on certain bills that came across his desk. That opened the pandora’s box on investigations that revealed all sorts of embezzlement, fraud, and outright theft of not only campaign funds, but state funds, too. Turned out he had a severe gambling problem.
That social community, I’m done with. Well, except for asking for donations for my mental health outreach centers. No need to fund it all myself when I can bleed other rich fucks like my parents to give back to those who need help far more than they ever could.
I haven’t told my parents or Isaak, but I donated half the inheritance money that was deposited in my account that terrible day to a variety of veterans’ programs.
There’s still plenty left to start my own center, but I just refuse to be part of a system that centers so much wealth in one person. I’m hoping after setting up my center to be able to give more. I want to work for what I make, and there’s no reason Isaak and I shouldn’t be able to live well off of our salaries. He’s not the kind to take a handout, though he has allowed me to invest in his company to help it get off the ground quicker. What could be a more solid investment than his future? I argued. The stubborn man still didn’t accept until we found out I was pregnant.