Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
The sounds she’s making are heaven to me. The way her body moves when she comes nearly catapults her off the couch. It all makes me feel like a fucking king.
I’ve just given her the first orgasm of her life.
The first of a million, if I have my way.
And I will have my way.
When her orgasm plays out, and she’s panting, her eyes unfocused, I kiss her shaking inner thighs, then reach up and sit her up on the sofa and rearrange her legs to be more comfortable. Her tits are still out, and I stand then lean down and give each of her sweet nipples a kiss and lick before dropping onto the soft seat next to her and pulling her into me.
“Now, let’s talk about Anastasia Snow and how we are going to make her a star.”
T E N
Selma
TWO HOURS LATER, I’M walking on clouds.
No, I’m walking on pillows on top of clouds on top of cotton candy on top of marshmallows.
Ash has been going over his plans for Anastasia, and I’ve decided it feels right. The way he says it makes sense. I should want this for myself. And no amount of shame from my upbringing is going to ruin my dreams.
As he talks, I play with the heart pendant around my neck, knowing I could never let Papa see such a token of worldly decadence.
I know there’s a huge possibility I’m delusional, but for the first time in my life, I’m being selfish.
And a little slutty.
More than a little.
That thought turns me cold when I think about Papa and the arrangement with my match that is already in motion.
How am I going to tell him all this? Not only am I about to start a food blog and brand which will put me into some level of media spotlight, but also, sorry Papa, but I don’t want to get married.
Not to Daniel anyway.
Something clicked inside of me today with Ash. Anastasia and Selma came together, and all I know is, I get to make my decisions about my life. I can handle that.
I can handle more than I ever knew.
“I have to make a few phone calls.” Ash leans down and kisses the top of my head. “Business stuff, I won’t be long.”
My stomach knots as he picks up his phone and briefcase and walks into a small office off the living area of the suite then shuts the door behind him.
I feel like I’ve crossed some invisible line and the parts of the old Selma are gone. But twenty years of conditioning still has me fighting off some flickering feelings of shame for what I did today here with Ash.
What kind of girl am I?
I push away the niggling doubts and look at Ash, sitting behind the desk and talking on the phone. He gives me a smile and a wink, and I shiver, thinking of all the new feelings he’s brought about in my body and my heart.
It’s getting late, and I need to get home. That thought makes my heart speed because I know I’m going to have to tell Papa about things with Ash. Not only the Anastasia part but the other part.
Well, at least I need to tell him I’m not getting married.
While Ash is in the office, I dig out my phone. Although my phone is a dinosaur compared to what most ten-year-olds are sporting out these days.
It’s black. It flips open. It has no internet.
Go me, I guess.
I flip it open, and there are a few short texts from Cam teasing me and asking how things are going.
I send him a quick message back that I’m fine. Things are fine. I keep it simple, knowing he’s dying for details, but I don’t feel like sharing right now. I let him know I’ll see him in the morning before my New Testament 101 class.
I’m still trying to absorb everything that’s happening and make sure I’m not going to wake up like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, with a bump on my head wondering what the heck just happened.
I hear the click of the doorknob and look up to see Ash emerging from his office. I’ve made myself comfortable on the sofa, flipping through a Bon Appétit magazine that was in a pile of others on the coffee table.
“Learning anything?” He sits down next to me and immediately my heart races.
“Yes, actually. I’m learning how much I do not know about cooking.”
“That may be, but there’s a lot no one knows about what you do. The unique thing about you is you’ve figured everything out for yourself. You said you had some basic cooking skills from when you were younger, but you’ve created your recipes like Mozart created his symphonies. From scratch with very little education. That’s a gift, Selma.” He sits down next to me, his arm around the back of the sofa cushions and his spicy masculine scent is so sexy.