Speech to text. So, touching yourself is outside the scope of normal? You prefer toys? I could bring you one.
KINSLEY:
You’re joking, right? You bring random toys on dates?
REAPER:
Hell yeah, you never know when you might need one. Like right now, do you need one, kitten?
KINSLEY:
I’m good.
REAPER:
You sure about that?
KINSLEY:
Positive. I should let you get back to whatever it is you were doing.
REAPER:
I’m stroking my cock, wishing it were inside you.
I stared at his text for too long, unsure how I should respond. My hand went to hover over my pussy. But then I stopped, remembering the rules. Some things I hadn’t been able to purge from my mind. As tremors racked my body, a familiar knot tightened in my chest.
REAPER:
Did I scare you off?
KINSLEY:
Good night. Sweet dreams.
I turned my phone off; I didn’t want to engage him anymore. What the hell was I doing even thinking about touching myself? I shuddered, praying I’d be able to shift my thoughts so I didn’t have a nightmare.
I awoke late the next morning and turned my phone on. Clicking on Alek’s name, I saw he removed three messages from last night.
REAPER:
Good morning, kitten. Been a change in plans. Something work related came up. It’s unavoidable. Charles will take you girls to a spa day.
I sighed as a sense of relief washed over me. I quickly typed a response.
KINSLEY:
Who is Charles, and what happened to my Marcus?
REAPER:
Your Marcus? Shall I tell him you’re wearing my mark? He always accompanies us for work. It’s standard protocol. Charles is as trustworthy.
KINSLEY:
Sounds ominous, the work-related stuff. Don’t tell Marcus. He’ll think I’m on your payroll.
REAPER:
