Page 34 of Sinful Lord

Still, I wait until my clenched limbs are stiff before I dare budge. When my stomach growls, I try to remember if I ordered any food last night.

Could that have been a delivery person?

“… Hello?” I croak. But I know no one is there. Not anymore.

With great caution, I pulled myself out of bed. The second my feet hit the ground, though, I nearly fall flat onto my face.

My thighs are unexpectedly sore.

Grinding my teeth, I push through it.

The curiosity that pushed me over the edge last night is edging me forward again, even if a familiar dread is weighing me down.

But all of that is a welcomed distraction from the shame.

Shit. I masturbated to the thought of Tytus Ryzdon. My family's most dangerous enemy. Rozalia’s older brother.

… And it was the hottest thing I’ve ever done—though, I guess that’s an easy task for a virgin.

When my hand falls on the doorknob, I take a shaky breath, then I rip the band-aid off.

When the door pulls open, I get ready to flinch. To run. To scream. But no one waits for me in the hallway. No one’s down the hall either.

The place is empty… except for a package at the foot of my door.

The beige cardboard container is about twice the size of a shoebox. A pretty red bow wraps around it. When I bend down to inspect the thing, I notice that a small letter has been tucked beneath the string.

I look down the hallway one last time before slipping back inside. The box comes with me. I set it down on the bed as I consider if I should open it or not.

The answer comes quickly enough.

Of course I’m opening it.

By this point, even my fear is outweighed by my curiosity. I carefully pull at the ribbon. It easily comes undone.

Biting down on my lip, I lift the cover.

What’s inside steals my breath away.

“No way…” I almost laugh.

A massive dildo stares back at me.

“This is insane,” I mumble.

Still, I lean in for a closer look.

My tongue flickers across my lips as I see the veins wrapping the thick shaft. A gulp slips down my throat at the size of the girthy mushroom head.

Just like that, I’m wet again.

I’ve never owned a dildo before. Are they supposed to be this detailed? It almost looks like someone took a cast replica of their dick. Who the hell would do something like that? And why?

Suddenly, I remember the tiny letter that came with the box. I scramble to find it. Then I furiously rip it open.

But maybe I shouldn’t have been so eager. Because the message inside hits me even harder than the gift it came with.

“Start slow, princess,” the handwritten note warns. “Because I won’t.”