Chapter 258

And as I calm down, and let myself be distracted from what are, arguably, the more important questions...I find myself starting to become intrigued.

The first time I came down here into this basement, I had been way too embarrassed to truly engage with this literature, no matter how much Fiona encouraged me. Plus, I had stumbled onto that sex tape from Kent, which had been a step too far.

My eyes flick, just once, to shelf of unlabeled black tapes – but then I decide against it. I didn’t need to compare his technique with other women to what he does with me. I just avoided one jealous panic attack – perhaps best to avoid another.

But as I flick through the magazine this time, now that I have what is inarguably more experience under my belt – though much less than Kent, I’m well aware – I find myself not shy at all about exploring what I’m finding on the page.

Some of it does not appeal to me at all. The pictures of solo women bearing their bodies for the photographer don’t do much – I’m pretty thoroughly straight, I’m aware, so while I can admire these women’s beauty, I flip through these sections pretty fast.

But the images of women actually paired with men...

Especially the ones of women on their knees with men standing in front of them...

These are the ones that have me lingering on the page, studying the men’s faces as they bury their fingers in these women’s hair, as they come completely undone...

And suddenly, quite suddenly, I realize something. And I blink, and put the magazine down in my lap. Because I know that Kent is going to expect me to show up tonight in his room all upset, demanding answers, making him swear that he feels nothing for Natalia and that he’s not going to leave me for her.

As I’ve made him do before.

And then, once he tells me what I want to hear, he’ll take me to bed and fuck me senseless until I can’t remember my name, let alone why I was mad at him. I’m well aware that Kent uses sex to influence with my emotions, to sway my decisions towards what he wants.

And I’m also aware that up until now? Well. Let’s just say it’s been worth it.

But as I glance back at the women on the pages of the magazine, and the men who stand above them with their eyes pressed shut, their mouths hanging open...

I begin to wonder...could I do the same to him?

And I snap the magazine shut, getting quite suddenly to my feet.

Fall For My Ex's Mafia Father Because I think...it may be time to ry.

______________________ “Hey,” I say to Kent as I lean against the doorway after pressing open the door at the top of the stone steps, which opens soundlessly.

He turns to me, surprised. I’m earlier tonight than I usually am.

“Fay,” he says, smiling and sinking his hands into his pockets as he turns to me. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I reply, returning his smile, my own hands deep in the pockets of the fur-trimmed robe that Kent gave me forever ago. I’m wearing the pretty moccasins he sent me too, but both are a decoy. Because underneath this robe I am wearing a v-neck romper made with completely sheer fabric.

Honestly, it barely counts as clothing, the way it dips all the way down to my belly button and barely skirts my ass before dipping between my cheeks.

It’s uncomfortable and cold, frankly, but damn do I look good in it.

And I want him hard the moment he slips this robe from my shoulders. So. Sacrifices must be made.

“What are you doing here?” Kent asks me, smirking and taking a few slow steps towards me.

I pout and him, pretending to be disappointed. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” he says instantly, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. “I had...work to do. But it can wait.” He lowers his head then to his favorite place between my neck and my shoulder, deeply breathing in my scent as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“See that’s a shame,” I murmur, laughing a little as his breath tickles my skin. “Because I was hoping to ask you for a favor.”

“Really?” Kent asks, surprised and intrigued enough to lift his head and look me in the face again. “You want something from me?” A smirk comes to his mouth.

“Yes,” I say, biting my lip as an anxious little flutter starts in my stomach, because even though I’m feeling bold – and I’ve had enough wine to make me braver than I usually am – well. I never do anything like this. “Kent?” I ask, hesitating.

“Yes?” he responds, curious.

“Do you think you can teach me how to give you a blow job?”

Chapter 0257