Batting away my tears, I stand up and pace. My nerves are shot.
Tonight, I’ll be having sex with a stranger, and it won’t be giving me the fairy tale either. I’m quite happy about that actually. I don’t want the fairy tale. I was never one to love a prince. I loved the beast and always felt ripped off that he didn’t turn back. Why would anyone want a weak prince when they could have that incredible beast of a man?
See, weird. Totally weird.
There are no windows in the room. Just one door. A large, four-poster bed dominates the room, and they have a thing about mirrors as well.
So many mirrors that no matter where I look, I see myself.
My brown hair is a mess from running my fingers through it. My eyes are wide. I’m a little afraid. Terrified, really. The clothes I’m wearing are nothing sexual. Malcolm told me I didn’t have to dress up, that part of the charm of option two was the realness of it all.
Why did I opt to just get fucked?
This is business.
I had always fantasized about what my first time would be like. Touching a man, being touched. Not once did I think it would be to the highest bidder. Still, not having the dream experience means that more security is in place. There would be a man posted outside the door just in case.
If at any point the mystery man decides to use his fists, or hurt me, I’m to scream. The guard would be in and all will be okay. He’d deal with the man and I’d still get paid.
The fear is back.
I’ve never been good when it comes to pain.
I’m the kind of person who cries when she cuts her finger. Wow, this is going to suck big time.
Staring straight ahead, I feel my heart pound, which gets worse as I hear a knock on the door.
I glance around the room. Should I answer? Why are they knocking?
Biting my lip, I can’t stop frowning.
The knock comes again.
“Who is it?” What else am I supposed to say? This isn’t my home, nor is it my room. This was just for one night.
“May I come in?”
His voice is dark and deep.
My heart rate triples.
Shit.
This is really happening.
I’ve sold my virginity, and now I have to pay the price.
“Yes, of course.” I hate how nervous I sound. Does he hear it? He doesn’t enter straight away.
I count how long I wait for him to come inside.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
The door finally opens. I look away, almost afraid of who I’ll find entering the room. There isn’t any window, and my fear no longer feels justified.
I did this.
The man has bought me for the night, but this is all me.
Every single part of it.
I turn and look at him.
He isn’t what I was expecting.
The man standing by the door is indeed older; late thirties maybe. Not that I can tell all that much from staring at him. He looks at me, his hands by his sides, but he doesn’t seem nervous.
No.
Staring into his deep blue eyes, I am taken aback by how he watches me, assessing. There is something dark beneath that gaze that keeps me on the spot.
This is the man who’s purchased me.
For one night he owns me, and because I didn’t demand the fairy tale, it doesn’t have to be sweet and nice.
I wanted the darkness, and from the look on his face, he is more than willing to give it to me.
“Stand up,” he says.
I do exactly as he said.
Fighting is useless.
Bowing my head, I wonder how long the carpet’s been laid. It looks old, almost vintage. Maybe that is the appeal here. It reminds me of something you’d see in an old movie where the girl was put up for sale.
Okay, now I’m just trying to pretend my fantasy isn’t that fucked up.
This isn’t a fantasy, far from it.
“Strip.”
I don’t even know his name.
Not that it matters. I won’t tell him mine.
Kicking off my sneakers, I start working on the buttons of my shirt. He still hasn’t moved.
I give him my back as I go to unsnap my bra. His voice holds me to the spot.
“No, I want to see. Turn back around. Show me.”
My cheeks are on fire.
I’ve never been spoken to like that before.
Without looking at him, I slowly remove my bra, feeling my tits spring out. I’ve always been well-blessed in the chest department.
No one else has ever seen them.
There are a lot of firsts going on tonight.
When I finally get to my panties, I hesitate.
“All of it.”
There is no need to get scared. If he hurts me in any way unless I want it, I can call out to the guard.
Wriggling out of my panties, I clasp my fingers together, hoping my long hair will in some way cover my body.