I’m Desniah Williams, the daughter of an influential member of the British Parliament. The devil incarnate got his hooks in me. For the attention and praise he lavished on me, I gave him every last shred of my soul. I was a cheap whore. London commands her weight in gold.
Two men one is a politician on the verge of greatness and the other a philanthropist on the cusp of corruption, each owns a piece of me.
Freedom is bitter responsibility…submission is sweet abdication.
Our ride was nearing its end. That sounded final as though I'd lose Rhys when we got to my flat. A lot of friends had sex and things worked out between them. Rhys and I could be like that. We were important to each other.
Rhys pulled into my building’s car park. “So--”
Jitters fluttered inside my stomach. My hands were clammy.
London would know what to say to get a man’s attention. I wanted Rhys to be mine, not hers.
The past four and a half years had been a long road of self-discovery. Less than a year ago, I couldn't tell when she took over, I simply lost time. Over the last few months, if I didn't like something or wasn't comfortable I'd let her take over.
Despite knowing how many ways this train could derail, I wanted to explore what was developing physically between Rhys and me. I wasn't about to let my growing anxiety conjure her presence. So rather than fade away, I held on.
“I don’t want you to go… yet.” Why had I said it as though warning him that eventually I would want him to leave?
“Okay.” Rhys turned off the car. “We should probably talk.”
I nodded. I didn’t really want to chat. I wanted more of his touch.