NICOLE
We spent the rest of the weekend locked in our suite, our world shrunk to these four walls. We lived on room service and orgasms, and we christened every surface—though I'm not sure "christening" is the right word for how filthy we were.
Sex with Kenji is raw. It's animalistic. It's soul-destroying in the best possible way. It shatters who I was and molds me into something darker, more depraved, and I love it.
Even at his coldest, he's always treated me with a strange, distant respect outside the bedroom. But inside it? I am his toy.
His to use in the shower, pressed against the window overlooking the city, bent over the desk. And I crave it as much as he does.
But now, reality is knocking. Today is the day of the wedding.
I'm standing in the center of the bedroom, feeling the ghost of his hands everywhere. He walks out of the closet, already dressed in his tuxedo.
