City Of Need

8 ❤️‍🔥 The Taste Of You

Roxy

Wrapped in his body, the taste of him in my mouth, I have never felt so full and so content.

I feel like I could stay here forever and never want for anything. What the fuck is this madness?

The carpet is soft under my knees and with his warmth wrapped around me I start to feel sleepy. We melt onto the floor and lay together. Two horse-shoe shaped spoons. Me the little one and him the big one.

*

I stretch out, open my eyes and yawn. The carpet is so soft underneath me. The blanket I'm wrapped in smells of sandalwood. My head feels clear for the first time in weeks. When was the last time I woke up without a hangover? Definitely not since I left my family in Scotland to come to London.

I stretch  my toes and my knees ache.

Shit!
Jack!
Last night!
I went to sleep on the living room floor next to him and now he's gone. How did that happen? Where is he? Did he wait for me to fall asleep and then rob me?

Jemima will fucking kill me if I've let a burglar into her house. What if he's taken her car? It's a fucking Porsche.

That bastard. I'm such an idiot to think a guy like that would be interested in anything from me, unless it's drugs or money. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

... But wait. He's an 'actually very famous pop star.' Why would he steal from anyone?

I pull myself up from the floor and drag myself down the corridor to the bedroom. He's not here. Checking the safe in the wardrobe I see it's still closed. I grab a night shirt and throw it over my stupid latex top, which now feels grossly sticky and sweaty.

I need to find out what's happening. I run back down the hall. I can smell fresh coffee. That's weird. I follow the smell to the kitchen. What kind of burglar makes coffee? He's not here either, but a pile of croissants are sitting on the plate and my stomach growls with need.

'Jack?!' I shout.

No reply so I head for the living room. Not here either, but the basement door is open.

Fuck. I've never been in there. I told Jack I was scared to go down there. Then I laughed, made it sound like I was mocking him. But I wasn't. I am scared of the basement.

I've heard the screams. The crying. The snap of the whip. The pleading. None of it is pretty. And yet it does something to me. I'm not a newbie to this. I've had doms. I've had subs. But whenever I approach the basement door it's like there's a memory stuck under my fingernails. A splinter of something so terrifying that my mind won't bring it out into the light. My calves start to tighten with the desperate need to run. Run far and fast. From what, I don't know.

That's why I've never been down there. I didn't tell Jack that. I didn't tell Jemima either. It all sounds so ridiculous. But now the door is open and I don't know what to do.

'Jack?' I whisper. Then louder, 'Jack, are you down there? Are you in the basement?' Fuck. What if he's stuck down there?

A key rattles, but it's coming from the front door. What's going on?

'Roxy!' Jack shouts as he comes through the front door, his face splitting into a grin. 'Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes! I hope you don't mind. I took your door key. Went to get us croissants. Then came back and realized you didn't have milk, so went back out and got some.'

He drops a kiss on top of my head as he walks past me towards the kitchen, still talking, 'You've got sod all in your fridge Little Doll. What the hell do you live on?'

'Toast..mostly,' I say grumpily.

He smirks at me and shakes his head. 'I'll heat up the croissants for breakfast, then we'll go for a walk. It's a lovely day. We can go down to the canal. Grab some lunch later.' He turns his back on me and puts the milk on the counter.

A walk? Breakfast? Lunch? This guy is getting way ahead of himself. 'Lovely day?' I mutter. 'It's February... in London... and it's freezing.'

Doing a one-eighty he turns back to me. 'Oh, Little Doll. Are we not a morning person?' There's a smile in his voice and it makes my heart feel warmer.

I chew my lip. Who is this guy? The 'actually quite famous pop star', who is not running out the door to get away from me. Why is he still here? Surely he's worked out by now that I am trouble with a capital T?

He wraps his arms around me and says, 'Does my little doll need coffee before conversation? Will that make you more amenable towards the day?'

I nod into his chest, breathing in the scent of him. Sandalwood and sex.

'Good Girl. Now go and get in the shower. Be back here in five minutes.' He turns me towards the door and as I start to walk towards it he slaps my ass. My skin smarts at the fresh handprint sized smack on top of last night's bruises and I scoot from the room.