Page 54 of Under His Control

How deep into depravity will I let Jacob take me for his money?

Resignation slows my movements as I put down the basket.

You’re no better than your mother after all.

I approach the bed, staring at it like it’s covered in nettles and broken glass before I climb onto the mattress. I lie on my back and the comfortable firmness beneath me makes me bitter.

It is better than the couch.

Jacob picks up the lone burgundy armchair by the window and sets it down beside the bed. He takes a seat, bending one leg over his knee and lays his hands on the chair arms.

He looks relaxed and somehow distinguished despite his simple grey T-shirt and black-and-grey flannel pajama pants. Meanwhile, dread fills every space in my body and seeps out of my pores beneath his expectant gaze.

He’s waiting for me to start.

This can’t be real. I’m not seriously about to masturbate in front of Jacob. I’ve never done it in front of anyone.

Just like the shower a few hours ago, this is another intimate solo activity he demands to witness when he’s the one person who shouldn’t. I close my eyes and lay my hand on my stomach, psyching myself up for the next step.

My self-consciousness is potent under Jacob’s palpable stare as I ease my hand into my leggings and underwear. When my fingers skim my mound, I’m more aware of my touch than usual with someone watching me do it.

Gentle caresses on my soft lips make my face warm. I’m sure Jacob can see my hand movements. I part myself, sliding my fingers back and forth over my clit.

Without porn, or an erotic story, or even one of those naughty audio clips online as my usual aids, I’m too present in the moment. My body refuses to warm up.

Oh god. What if I’m stuck doing this for too long because I’m too nervous to come?

“This isn’t working for me,” Jacob says.

He changed his mind!

Sweet relief courses through me. I yank my hand out of my underwear and jerk upright, unable to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, because it’s weird.”

And wrong. Wrong as hell.

“No, because you’re dressed. Stand up and take off your clothes. Leave on the collar.”

I gape at him. Jacob is leading me by the hand, step by step, lower and lower into the depths.

Turn back. You still can.

I can’t. Everything so far would’ve all been for nothing.

Sunk cost fallacy claims another victim.

Slowly, I scoot off the bed onto unsteady feet. Jacob’s stare scalds me as I remove my clothes for him again.

I’m standing right in front of him and he’s only a couple of feet away. It’s like I’m giving him a strip tease. He definitely looks like he’s enjoying the show.

He hasn’t moved but he doesn’t seem as relaxed anymore. His grip tightens on the chair arms when I’m naked. He drags his heated gaze over my body as though he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs. “I would’ve done a better job than the towel. Licked every drop of water from your body.”

A thrill zips through me and I want to slap myself. His words might be flattering. It doesn’t change the fact that they’re messed up, this entire situation included.

“Why don’t you care who I am to you?”