Living With Him

Forty-four: Territorial Marks

I groaned softly when I opened my eyes.

"Oh hell..." I breathed out as I stretched.

I feel sore all over.

You did ask for it—my subconscious raised her brows at me without looking. She just stood by the window, looking outside.

My mind wandered back to last night's events.

Groans, moans, whimpers, soft pants, and of course, the endless dirty vocabulary words from my fake-yet-overly-horny fiancé filled this room last night. I can't remember how many times I excused myself to go pee after sex, only to be welcomed by yet another round of pleasurable torture from him afterwards.

I sat up and clenched my walls when I felt the gentle soreness on my pubis.

The only other time I feel this is during the second day of my period. Though of course, this one came from something pleasurable.

Who knew there're a lot of sex positions? I didn't even notice if we have some Kama Sutra manual thingy with us last night.

Mr. Northman and his tongue...oh hell, his tongue.

"Speak of the devil," I muttered as I looked at the empty, yet unruly space beside me. "Where is he?"

I looked around to find my clothes but I decided to just bathe and get some fresh ones when I saw my ripped shirt on the floor.

Standing up, I rubbed my bum while reaching for my pants. To balls and beyond, even my behind feels sore from the spanking I got last night for laughing at him when he called me 'cumbunny' and I called him 'cumbunny fucker'.

The room's not properly illuminated since the curtains are still drawn, except for one that was slightly parted. I walked towards it when I noticed something on my pants and sighed loudly when I saw it.

"He broke the frigging zipper!"

I rolled my eyes and picked up every discarded clothes (and what's left of most of them), along with the comforter, pillows, pillowcases, blanket, and lamp.

Yes, we managed to knock a lamp off the nightstand and other few things we bumped into during last night's tryst.

After making everything look like all we did was talk last night and slept standing up, I walked carefully to the bathroom, pressing my lips together whenever I feel something sore.

I breathed out relief when the warm water cascaded down on my body.

Squirting some soap on my hands—I giggled.

"Squirting?" I snorted.

Oh that man and the things he does to my mind!

I shook my head and sighed before cleaning myself, making sure that I don't put too much pressure on the sore parts.

"What the Idjit!" I hissed when I faced the mirror.

I rubbed my face with the towel once more before looking at my reflection once more.

"Balls!" I gasped as I turned to the side and then to the other as I took everything in.

My neck and even my earlobes are decorated with hickeys, along with my chest, stomach, lower abdomen and inner thighs. My lovely behind's all pink and nipples look a bit swollen though it doesn't really hurt—it feels sensitive though.

And my wrists and waist! Damn that pervert-mouthed being!

I didn't even know that he was holding on as if I was a floating device and he was drowning until this moment. There're marks—more like imprints of his hands on my skin.