CBWR? Chapter 7

So, I know I said last night there were going to be 1-2 updates today. I lied. There will be four, but they might be a tad shorter. You have Chonga to thank, because she won't start anything new until it gets to ten chapters. This is my way of making her read all of this tonight. HA!

There will probably be an update around noon, then two this evening (I'm GMT+5).

The caveman in me, or at least the Cleaver in me, could not have been more thrilled.

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Chapter 7:

“I’ll keep you.”

Bella dropped her head down and closed her eyes as she breathed heavily through her mouth.

“Thank you , Master.”

I took a couple long breaths myself and tried to figure out my next steps. I had exactly what I wanted – now I just needed to figure out what came next. One thing I did know – things were not going to be business as usually around here for a while. I grabbed my phone.

“Mr. Cullen?”

“Angela, I’m taking the rest of the week off. I should be back Monday. If there is anything that absolutely can’t wait, call, but otherwise just deal with whatever it is, okay?”

“No problem, Mr. Cullen.”

Okay, the easy stuff was out of the way. Now for the hard stuff. I glanced down at my phone and saw it was already after six in the evening. Bella was still kneeling in front of me with her hands on my legs, back to her unmoving state. I tossed the phone onto the side table and ran my hand through her hair again.

“Can you cook?” I asked.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good – see what you can find to cook us for dinner.”

“Yes, Master.”

She rose quickly and headed up the four stairs to the kitchen area. I watched as she first opened the refrigerator, checked what was there, and then started opening up other cabinets to figure out just what I had in the apartment to eat. I wasn’t really sure – I just needed to think without her distracting hands and hair. Of course, with her shirt now discarded on the floor, she was walking around in the kitchen with only a white lace bra on the top. Distraction came again pretty quickly.

“Bella,” I called out. She turned immediately to face me. “Take off your skirt, too.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied – of course – and she slipped her skirt down to the floor, stepped out of it, and hung it carefully over the seat of one of the island chairs.

I was most definitely distracted now, as well as hard as a rock. What the fuck was I thinking, asking her to do that? All right – stupid question. Now she was in a white lacy bra and panties only, because she must have discarded her shoes as well as her skirt, and she was cooking me dinner.

The caveman in me, or at least the Cleaver in me, could not have been more thrilled.

Starting with her bare feet, I let myself take in the curves of her ankles and calves. She had beautifully shaped legs, which ran on up to a perfectly delicious looking ass, mostly covered by those lacy panties. Her back looked smooth and straight, and I absolutely loved the way her hair swished back and forth as she moved from one pot to the other. With her back to me, I didn’t have nears as good of a look at her tits, but I probably didn’t need that much of a distraction anyway.

After a few minutes of watching her, and licking my lips like a starving man, I managed to focus my thoughts again. She was mine, and she was going to stay mine. I bought her for a reason, and that reason hadn’t changed. I just freaked myself out a little when I realized how ill prepared I was for the whole thing. It didn’t matter at this point – I’d get prepared right now.

The guest room across from my bedroom would be the place she could put her clothes and have her own space. It was blandly decorated, but she could change it how she likes. She’d still be sleeping with me, but she could stay in that room when she was out of town or if one of us was sick or something. She obviously knew her was around the kitchen from the tomato sauce-y smells coming from the other room, so I didn’t think eating was going to be an issue. She could go to the grocery store and get whatever she wanted to make.

“Bella, can you drive a car?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.”

She could get groceries herself, and if I couldn’t get away from the office at noon, she could bring me lunch and a blowjob. Perfect.

Well, this was what I wanted, right?

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Chapter End Notes:

OK - at least the boy has a plan now, right? Right? RIGHT?

The "Cleaver" reference is to a old 60's sitcom called Leave It to Beaver. They were the perfect little family, and Mrs. Cleaver was always vacuuming the carpets in a dress and pearls. I think my husband still wants in her panties. I'm pretty sure someone could make a case for June Cleaver being a slave.