Deceit: the action or practice of deceiving someone by concealing or misrepresenting the truth.
Running a BDSM club sounds easier than it is but hiding something beneath the building only stirs up more trouble when the curiosity of one journalism s...
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Thursday came around much faster than I'd originally hoped. With one full day yesterday doing exactly fuck all it had sped by between short naps and emerging from my bedroom like a troll to get food at the wrong dining hours. Jasper found great amusement in my behaviour, using his happiness as a means of distraction so I didn't think about going to work.
It wasn't exactly the most helpful.
Part of me craved a physical distraction, and I'm ashamed to admit I was standing outside of Dylan's bedroom door late last night in an oversized shirt and a poor excuse for underwear, not leaving much to the imagination. But as I'd gone to knock I'd thought about the repercussions of the morning, he's not got any morning classes therefore I'd have to face him so I backed away from the door with horror.
I ended up under the sheets of my bed using my vibrator that lives in my underwear drawer buried beneath all the small pieces of fabric. With one hand over my mouth to stifle moans and the other braced on the pink toy I tried my hardest not to be loud, pleasure pumping through my veins before my orgasm smashed into me.
It was much better than I would've experienced in Dylan's bedroom. He often says as a follow-up as he flops down on the bed beside my body, 'did you finish, A?' To which I would respond with a nod before disappearing into the bathroom and finishing myself off.
Normally I have to think about anyone other than Dylan to get myself to the point of an orgasm, I can't even think about him while he's inside of me.
I'm ashamed to admit whose eyes popped into my mind last night. Whose raspy-natured voice smoothly talked me through the intense orgasm. Whose fingers I'd pretended were swirling leisurely over my clit like writing filthy poems.
Part of me did not want to face him after that despite him having no idea I cried his name into my palm as my body rippled with pleasure. But the devil on my shoulder teases the idea of spending another session of sex with him, how good he made my body feel and how fucking amazing he was at pleasuring a woman.
He has a hatred for me, continually accusing me of being inside his head and almost manipulating him yet he follows me around and comes onto me. If anything the man is undeniably confusing, everything about him sends me spiralling and every interaction sends me through a new loophole.
I think simply he's just an asshole... even Niall agrees.
Niall who has been so supportive and kind no matter what, messaged me through most of the day before I was due at work. Telling me how much Scarlett had been enjoying her new books and asking when I could show her more books in the library, informing me that I now had a small best friend who would likely be questioning when she could next see me. She's such a gentle souled little girl, extremely quiet and angelic which is the biggest confusion to my mind because how is someone so kind-natured the offspring of someone so tough and downright nasty?
