"Pandora," he mumbles.
"Can I come in?" I don't wait for him to answer, but stroll into his house right away. "Why are you answering your own door? Where's the help?"
He chuckles weakly. "Already getting used to the high life, aren't you, Pandora?"
"Where's your butler?"
"He quit." Dexter closes the front door with a wince and motions for us to go to the sitting room.
"Won't you hire someone new?"
"Maybe." He walks funny, with a limp, and when he passes me and I see the mess that is his back, I gasp out loud. "What?"
"Your... your skin," I whisper. "It's... ruined."
He stops a few steps ahead of me and groans as I reach him, pressing my fingertips to the only place on his back that isn't bleeding or scabbed over.
"He did this to you?" I ask, shaking my head. I knew Dex had been whipped after interrupting the ceremony, but I had no idea to what extent. I feel sick looking at him now, knowing it's my fault he's been hurt like this. "My father hurt you. It's my fault."
"No," Dex hisses. "It's Oakes' fault. He did this to me. And it's not the only thing he's done."
"What do you mean?"
He shakes his head, rubbing his temples. "Sitting room. Come on."
I follow him through the hallway and sit on the sofa in front of the roaring fireplace. I can't help but notice his house is looking dirty and unkempt. There are dust bunnies in the corners of the room and spiderwebs on the ceiling. Dex settles on an ottoman and winces again as he sits down.
"I'd offer you a drink, but you'll have to make it yourself," he says. "Don't have much in the house."
"It's fine." I wave my hand dismissively. "I do hope you hire someone soon, though... Have you seen a doctor?"
"The first day after." Dex motions to the coffee table. "There are some creams and painkillers there I'm supposed to take. But I can't put the ointment on my back by myself. Can't reach back there."
"Want me to do it for you?" I ask, my heart breaking for him. I hate the bastard, but I still feel sorry for him.
He battles with his decision, but I don't wait for an answer. Instead, I pick up the tube from the coffee table and approach him. Slowly, Dex turns his back to me, and I come face-to-face with the horror that is his wounds. I inhale sharply, trying to not let him see how scared the sight of him makes me. The wounds have scabbed over, and there are stitches in some of them. I touch the area with my fingers dipped in the ointment, and Dex hisses.
"Sorry. I'll try to be as gentle as I can."
"You should." He groans when I begin massaging the medicine into his skin. "I don't deserve it."
I don't comment and continue to work the salve into his skin while he glares at me suspiciously.
"What are you doing here, anyway?"
"My father." The words fall from my lips before I can stop myself.
"What else is new," Dex sighs. "What'd the old prick do now?"
"He..." I swallow the truth down. I'll tell Dexter what happened, but I want to thank him, first. "Doesn't matter. Just more Oakes bullshit. Eden Falls this and that. I hate this godforsaken town."
"So do I, toy," he mutters. "So do I."
"And I wanted to thank you." I put the cap back on the tube of ointment and place it back on the coffee table, feeling Dex's eyes on me.
"What for?"
Sitting on the sofa next to him, I clear my throat. "You helped me after what happened with the boys. I wanted to see you, help you like you did for me. I haven't seen you in days."
"So, you finally care about me," Dex scoffs. "Took you long enough."
"Don't make a big deal of it. Your ego can't get any more inflated."
"That's where you're wrong, toy." He shifts his position on the sofa, and my eyes are drawn to the impressive outline of his cock pressing up against the fabric of his grey sweatpants. My mouth waters at the sight of his size, and he grabs his goods with one hand. I look up into his smirking face. "Like what you see? Want another taste?"
I don't answer, picking myself up instead and clearing my throat. "I'll take that drink now, if you're still offering."
"Pick something out of the wine cooler," he suggests, motioning to a refrigerator in the corner. "Not like anyone else is going to drink it, anyway."
I examine the bottles in the fridge with fancy names that mean nothing to me. Finally, I pull out a bottle of red and sit cross-legged on the floor next to Dex. He uncorks it for us and hands me the bottle back, raising his brows with amusement when I swig the juice right from the bottle.
As I lower the bottle, I realize just how nervous I am. Dex's presence has made my heart speed up, and shivers are going down my spine every time his leg brushes against me. My dress is long enough to cover me up, and I'm deliberately facing away from my ex. I don't need him seeing how flustered his presence has made me.
"You going to share?"
"Sure." I pass him the bottle and he swigs out of the bottle, too. Together we work through the wine, passing the bottle between us. By the time we're halfway through the wine, I feel my nerves melting away and being replaced by something that scares me even more - lust. Desire for Dex to stop all pretenses and take me right here. Prove to me we belong together.
I shake my head to get the thought out. His influence over me is there, try as I might to deny it. I hate Dex for the havoc he's wreaking on me, but I also don't want to fight it, and when his hand brushes my hair over my shoulder, I let out an involuntary gasp, making Dex chuckle.
"Still so easy, aren't you, toy?" he whispers in my ear, his breath tickling my neck. "No matter how many times you say no after, you want this. You live for it."
I close my eyes, forcing myself to count to three as I take deep, long breaths. I won't let him get to me. I won't let him break me. I won't let him between my legs again.
But Dex shatters all of my intentions when he begins to kiss my collarbone. His teeth dig into the tender skin there, and he bites and sucks me. My head cocks to the side of its own accord, enabling him easy access to whichever part of me he wants.
Dex slips on the floor next to me, his hand wandering between my legs and cupping my pussy over the lace panties I'm wearing.
"Just as I thought," he mutters against my hair. "Wet like always..."
"Fuck you." I sound helpless despite the curse word, and Dex chuckles gravelly.
"Oh, you will, Pandora. You will soon enough."
But then, unexpectedly, he picks himself up from the floor and takes the bottle of wine. "You've had enough of this."
"What?" I glare at him. "Who are you to decide how much I can drink?"
He gives me a stern look. "I'm just watching out for you, toy."
"Since when?"
He doesn't answer, heading into the kitchen with the bottle while I fume silently. Once again, he's proven how much control he has over me, and I hate him for it.
When Dex returns a moment later, I'm ready. I'm not letting him use me like the toy he wants me to be, not anymore. Now, I hold the strings, and I'm going to make him dance the way I want to.