Chapter 16

Easton

When I pull into the garage behind my home, Faye is sound asleep. She fell asleep the moment I buckled her in. The scene we did was extremely intense. I had intended to give her an orgasm afterward in the privacy of my third-floor apartment, but she was exhausted and unable to focus. An orgasm wouldn't have been consensual.

I lift her into my arms and carry her limp body into my house. I will have to give her a tour tomorrow. She's dead weight tonight.

Luckily, Drake took one look at Faye and told me to take her home. Bless him. One of these days, he'll meet his dream woman, and I will return the favor.

I also texted Eileen earlier and told her to take tomorrow off. Eileen is a gem, the best housekeeper on earth. She works full-time, making sure everything is taken care of in my home. I'm spoiled. The best part is that she's an amazing cook. She makes all my meals. She even makes everything I will need to eat on weekends and puts it in containers in my fridge.

On Saturdays, she usually comes in for just a few hours to make sure I'm fed. It's not necessary, but again, she's a gem.

Faye would probably freak if another person is in the house when she wakes up tomorrow. This is for the best.

I carry her upstairs and consider giving her a bath, but she's too tired, and no one but me touched her. Before we left the club, I set her on the counter in the bathroom of my apartment to wash her feet.

Faye was so out of it that she didn't complain as I dressed her in a T-shirt, leggings, socks, and shoes. I helped her into her coat and carried her down to my car.

Now that I've reached my bedroom, I drop her overnight bag on the floor, pull her coat off, tug the covers back, and lower her onto the mattress.

She whimpers adorably. This woman cannot possibly scene more than once a week. It wipes her out. And there is no way I would take her to the club on a weeknight. She'd never make it to work the next day.

She fusses a bit without opening her eyes as I undress her, but I want her naked in my bed. Hell, I want her naked in my bed for the rest of my damn life.

It's scary how strongly I feel about Faye. No wonder no previous relationship of mine worked out. I've never felt this way about a woman. I can't believe that just a few weeks ago, I was actually depressed over my breakup with Bethany. I realize now I was mostly just frustrated that I'd so poorly misjudged Bethany. We weren't a good fit, which I knew for a while. I wasn't exactly surprised when we called it quits. It was mutual. We couldn't see eye-to-eye.

What would have happened if I'd still been in a relationship with another woman when Faye walked through the door of Edge? I shudder.

I quickly slide Faye's naked body to the middle of the bed and pull the covers over her. She stops whimpering and snuggles into a ball on her side, breathing easier once she's cozy.

I don't want to leave her for long because she might wake up confused, so I hurry to brush my teeth and grab a tall glass of water. I made her drink a bottle before we left Edge, but she will wake up hungover again.

After turning out the lights and stripping down to my boxer briefs, I climb into bed and gently manhandle Faye until she's where I want her—spooned against my chest.

I inhale her scent, the vanilla shampoo she uses, her soap, and the rest is Faye. I'll never get enough of her, which scares me to death.

It's going to take some convincing to get her to merge her world with mine. I need to learn to navigate her quirks. I'm not ignorant about people who need things to be organized and routine. My mother was that way. She still is. I lived with it all through my childhood.

My father is a saint who adores my mother and caters to her every whim. Drake and I were raised to be respectful of her idiosyncrasies and treat her like a queen.

Nevertheless, I know it will be hard for Faye to accept another person into her space and doubly difficult since it makes more sense for her to move into my home than for me to move into her small apartment.

It's shocking that I'm plotting so hard to reach this end goal. I've never considered moving a woman into my home. Not even Bethany. Now, I understand completely why. She wasn't right. None of them were.

Faye is right. She's mine. I'm feeling so damn possessive that I'm hugging her too tightly, making her whimper and squirm until I release my grip a bit.

I smile as I think about clearing out several of my drawers. They're half full anyway. I don't need all of them. And my closet. Faye can have whatever side she wants. Most of the bathroom drawers are empty. It's a huge bathroom with two sinks and a walk-in shower for two.

My bed is king-sized. Anything smaller would look silly in a room this large, but now I'm kind of wishing the bed was a twin so she can't escape my touch.

Faye can meet with Eileen to discuss any dietary issues she has and let Eileen know what foods she prefers. I wonder what she does for lunch. Does she go out with co-workers or pack something at home? Does she cook dinner for herself, or is she more of a frozen TV dinner kind of gal?

There are so many things I don't know about this amazing woman I'm holding in my arms, but none of those things matter. All that matters is that I feel a connection with her that goes deeper than I ever imagined possible.

She's the perfect submissive for me. As exasperating as I used to think it would be to train a submissive, I'm realizing that's not the case at all with Faye. For one thing, she easily falls into line with my demands. I didn't need to spend days or hours teaching her how to kneel. She assumed the positions I put her in instantly and held them until I gave her permission to move.

My cock is hard. I need to think about something more mundane than her submission, but that's difficult now that we're in my bed, and I'm picturing her spread eagle, her wrists and ankles secured to the four corners.

My mind wanders to visions of her sitting naked on the vanity chair in the bathroom while I brush out her hair. I switch to picturing her on her knees in the shower, looking up at me, palms open on her thighs, knees wide, lips parted, pussy dripping for attention.

I want to sit her on the vanity, spread her open, and eat her out while she holds on to the edge of the counter.

I'm insatiable. I haven't spoken to her about any of this. What if she balks? What if it's too overwhelming, and she wants to go back to her apartment, where she has a routine that calms her?

I will learn to establish a routine that makes her happy. I want to be the one who can calm and soothe her. It might take some convincing, but I'm up to the challenge.

My home is closer to the laboratory where she works. Ha. One point for me.

When she's not at work, she won't have to lift a finger. Eileen will take care of everything else—two points for me—unless Faye actually loves cooking or finds cleaning bathrooms cathartic. There's also the possibility that she can't stand having someone else in the house.

I need to tread carefully. Eileen's presence probably won't bother Faye because Eileen is mostly here when Faye is at work. I hate cooking, so it would never occur to me that someone else might enjoy it. If Faye loves cooking, we'll make that work. At least Eileen can do the shopping and leave everything Faye needs ready in the fridge.

I close my eyes. I need to slow my mind down and get some sleep. It's early for me. I don't usually go to bed until three in the morning. On the nights the club is open, it takes me until at least three to wind down. On the other nights of the week, I usually stay up pretty late just to keep myself on some kind of schedule.

I'm nearly as drained as Faye tonight, though. Dominating her took a lot out of me because I had to pay such close attention to every nuance to be sure I didn't push her too far.

I take deep breaths, letting them out slowly. Faye's breathing is even. She's in a deep sleep. I let myself join her.