As she climbs into the bed, the door flies open. Waylen marches into the room, followed by Robert. As soon as he sees her, Robert blushes a bright red and looks down at his feet. Waylen smirks, but his eyes seem red and unfocused.
“Mrs. H—I mean Leilani,” Robert says. “Mr. Bamford has had a bit to drink.”
“What are you bringing him here for?” Leilani snaps. “If he’s drunk, ask Dr. Walter to deal with him.”
“Mr. Bamford said he wanted to come to see you,” Robert says.
Leilani turns to Waylen and says, “Well, you’ve seen me, and now you can leave.”
“You’re my mistress,” Waylen shouts. “You don’t have the right to kick me out.”
“You’re drunk,” Leilani says flatly. “Let Robert take you back to the mansion. You should eat something and go to sleep.”
Waylen turns and looks at Robert as if he’s forgotten the butler is in the room. His face gets dark and stormy, and he clenches his hand into a fist. He staggers toward Robert, and Robert cowers against the wall.
“Don’t look at her,” Waylen slurs. “Get out of here.”
“That’s a good idea, Robert,” Leilani says. “You should go get some medicine for Waylen—he’s going to have a wicked hangover. Actually, on second thought, I’ll go get it.”
Waylen turns away from Robert and says, “You’re not going anywhere. And you’re not ordering my servants around anymore either.”
Robert rushes to the door; as he pulls, it closed he glances over his shoulder at Leilani. He raises his eyebrows and frowns apologetically. She holds back a sigh. The last thing she wants is to be alone with Waylen while he’s drunk. She stares at him as he slowly staggers across the room and sits down on the edge of the bed.
“Come here,” he says, looking up at her with his bloodshot eyes.
She presses her lips together and shakes her head no. Slowly, she backs up toward the door, hoping to open it again.
“Have you forgotten about your job?” Waylen asks. “Do you need me to explain what I expect from you as my mistress?”
The word “mistress” hurts more than she thought it would. She glares at Waylen, and he glares back. He’s taken off his jacket, and his white shirt is wrinkled. His left-hand rests on his thigh, and her eyes linger a moment too long on his upper legs. She looks up at his face and sees he’s smirking at her.
“Get on your knees,” he says. “I want you to take my shoes off.”
Leilani shrugs and crosses the room. She kneels down and unties his black leather shoes, carefully sliding them off his feet. She knows that he’s trying to upset her, but she isn’t bothered by his feet. Just a few days ago, she gave him a foot bath in the hospital.
He grabs her upper arm and pulls her onto the bed. His fingers dig into the soft skin, and he uses his other hand to turn her face toward him. His expression is fierce and angry.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asks. “You’re degrading yourself.”
Leilani shrugs, but her calm attitude seems to make things worse. Waylen scowls and pushes her back onto the bed. He swings one long leg over her, so he’s straddling her.
He glares down at her and says, “Why won’t you talk? You always had some sarcastic remark to make before? Why are you so silent now?”
“There’s nothing left to say,” she says.
“Well, then if you don’t want to talk, we can do something else,” Waylen says. “Help me take off my pants.”
She’s not surprised that he wants to make love—he’s been abstinent for three months now. She reaches to unbutton his shirt, but Waylen grabs her hands and stops her.
“What are you doing with my shirt?” he asks.
“Aren’t you going to f.u.c.k me?” she asks.
“You want to make love with me?” Waylen asks, his voice cold and mocking. “You cheated on me. Do you think your body is clean enough to make love with me? Do you think you deserve that?”
“Well, you asked me to take off your pants,” Leilani says with confusion.
“Did I ask you to take off my shirt too?” Waylen says. “Just take off my pants.”
He stands up and waits by the side of the bed. Slowly she sits up and comes eye to eye with the bulge in the front of his pants. She unbuckles his belt and carefully unzips his pants, trying not to touch his erection.
She grabs the belt loops and tugs his pants, and they fall down the floor. His d.i.c.k springs free, and she turns her head away.
She’s seen him n.a.k.e.d before, but she’s still not used to looking at it. He grabs her hair in his hand and tugs her head, forcing her to look at it. He steps forward, and it almost touches her face.
“Please me,” he says.
She lifts her right hand and gently touches the tip of his d.i.c.k with her finger. Waylen swats her hand away and scoffs. He steps forward again, so it brushes against her lips.
“Use your mouth,” he says.
Leilani can’t believe her ears. They’ve done a lot of things together, but they’ve never done that. She swallows nervously and looks up at him. The thought of putting it in her mouth makes her want to gag. Waylen smiles coldly and tugs her hair.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he asks. “I told you to please me with your mouth. If you’re going to act like a p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e, I’m going to treat you like one.”
He pulls her hair again, making her scalp ache. A few strands of hair break off in his hand, and Leilani balls her hand into a fist. She felt guilty before, but now she’s angry and disgusted. I never knew he was such a monster, she thinks.
“What’s the matter?” Waylen asks with a laugh. “Does it make you feel nauseous? Didn’t you feel nauseous when you were with Andrew?”
Leilani smiles coldly and asks, “Do you know why I chose Andrew over you?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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