Page 50 of Savage Don

“No. I think you need to go to the bathroom.”

In response to his command, a powerful reaction ravishes my body. All I can think about is that huge bulge of his; about how tight I am. About how he’s already worn me out for the day.

“Ray, I’m sore,” I whisper, my cheeks turning pink with heat.

But Ray just wags his finger at me.

“It’s not Ray to you,” he reminds me.

“Sorry, master,” I bite back, sarcastically. “Can I not at least take it easy for the rest of the night?”

“Slaves don’t get to decide when they rest and when they work,” Ray taunts. “But you’re not going into the bathroom to get fucked.”

“Then why am I going in? I’ve already washed up.”

“You’re going in there to hide. My men bring gifts for you, and I want them to drop those gifts off in this room. But if they saw you like this, I’d have to kill them. So be a doll, and save a few lives tonight.”

“You were at my house…” I whisper, the reality of it suddenly hitting me extra hard. He was there, and I wasn’t.

What was it like?

“That’s right,” Ray nods.

“You got my clothes?” I ask, trying to fight off the more serious questions tumbling around in my brain.

“Why don’t you wait and see.”

Making his way to the bathroom, Ray opens the door and beckons me inside. With one last look into the empty hallway, I comply.

“How did you get past my father?” I ask.

“Power lets you get past any obstacle you want,” Ray smirks, before shoving his face out into the bedroom. “Bring it all in boys!”

With that, he slams the bathroom door shut and turns to look at me.

But he doesn’t talk. The handsome older man just licks his chops like he’s just dying to taste me again.

I can’t help but curl my toes and look away. On the other side of the door, I can hear people moving about.

It couldn’t be more than five minutes before a knock comes at the bathroom door.

“All done, boss!”

“Good, now scram.”

When we hear the bedroom door slam shut, Ray opens the bathroom door.

Sticking his face out to make sure the coast is clear, he motions me back into the room.

Immediately, I’m barraged by the scent of home.

“Your clothes are in the closet—they might need some ironing, though. You’re father had tossed them all over the floor by the time I showed up. Toiletries are in that bag. Set yourself up in the bathroom.”

Wandering towards the closet, I see that he’s telling the truth. All of my outfits are there. And I mean all of them.

“My father just let you walk out with all of this? What did you tell him?”

“I told him I was sending this shit to the lab,” Ray chuckles.