“This is weird,” I huff.
“What, being taken care of?” he asks as he starts cleaning my body.
“Yeah. Usually I’m alone after sex…”
“Do you prefer that?” he asks.
“Never had a choice,” I admit. “Did you pick me?”
“Yes and no. Charles suggested it because I have the most experience with brats, but I went into this wanting to find a brat.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Well… brats don’t do well in this unless they are psychologically broken down. I am a firm believer that brats do what they do with the intention of eventually submitting. Trauma is often a reason brats require extra steps before submission. Needing stability does not make a submissive less desirable to me. I don’t want blind obedience, and if I’m being honest, it’s obnoxious. If I am to take a wife, I want to be challenged just as much as I want to nurture.”
“Softie,” I mutter, and he laughs.
“So,” he says, lying in the bed beside me. I roll to face him, and he rests his hand on my waist. “What is your trauma, Little Dove? Who clipped your wings?”
“My dad,” I admit. “Wait. Are you going to tell…”
“No,” he says. “I have every intention of making you my wife, Alania. You have fire in your soul, and I want it for myself, but first, we must learn and grow together. This six-month school for you is just as much for me. It is my chance to help you grow and learn your mind, body, and soul.”
“I’m going to fight you,” I say firmly. “I refuse to be someone's obedient little bitch. I will not be my mother.”
“Fight me all you want, Little Dove. You will learn that there is a difference between fighting for your life and pushing back to create stability,” he says. “Brats need to know that their dominant partner can take their pushback and still make them feel safe. I could easily break you by destroying your sense of security and safety, but I’d much rather my wife learn to love me than simply learning to tolerate my existence.”
“Why do you care what my trauma is?” I ask.
“Because knowing why you push back is essential for me to avoid revictimizing you,” he says. He has a soft smile on his lips, and I am looking for any sarcasm or deception, but he feels… genuine.
“My dad has been raping me since I was a little girl,” I say. “It started with him making me suck his dick, but eventually moved to him fucking me. From the time others started showing interest at thirteen, I said yes to anyone and everyone because it was easier than someone forcing me. I was fucked by school teachers, professors, parents of friends, Dad’s friends, strangers… I have been fucked by well over one hundred men. I was told by my psychology professor, who also liked fucking my ass, that I was hypersexual because of what Dad does to me.”
“Does?” he asks.
“Any time he gets me alone. I’ve not seen him in person without my brother present for years,” I say.
“Does your brother know?”
“No,” I say. “Just you and the butt-fucking professor.”
“Do you enjoy sex?” he questions.
“A man rarely focuses on me, but when he does, it’s a blissful escape from reality,” I say. “I used to get whipped bloody by Dad and eventually cut my wrists open just to feel pain that I had created for a change, but something about the way the world goes quiet for a while after an orgasm is peace unlike anything I have ever felt. Why are you not turned off by how many men I have been with?”
“Because I own you, Little Dove. Once we are married, no other cock will enter your body unless I approve,” he says. “I plan tokeep you to myself as much as I can in here, but I can’t prevent it entirely.”
“So you will fuck the other women?”
“I have to,” he says, cupping my cheek. “Why?”
“No reason,” I lie. The thought of him fucking someone else like that makes me angry. He smiles at me deviously as he rolls me to my back and moves down to kneel between my legs. “What are you doing?”
“I want to know if my little dove is as sweet as she looks,” he says, pulling my legs apart and pushing my skirt up. He lowers down and gently peppers my thighs all the way up to my pussy. He spreads me open more and grunts his approval.
“I plan to eat this pretty pussy every chance I get, Little Dove,” he says. Adrian slowly pushes his tongue into my pussy, and warmth floods my belly as he slowly drags up and across my clit.
“Oh, f-fuck,” I groan and arch my back.
