Learning to Trust: New Life by B. B. Roman

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    I woke up from a nap to find myself drenched in sweat. Roland had given me a room of my own, despite our romantic entanglements. He claimed it was more professional, and I didn't doubt him. There were some things about him that I still didn't understand at all, even though it had been several months since I moved in.
    We actually did spend many nights together, but even if we did, I would wake up alone. Roland would be just as likely to disappear in the middle of the night as he would before I awoke in the morning. Normally he was just in the main room of the estate, but sometimes I actually had to go look for him. He was always excited to see me though, usually greeting me with a hug and tender kiss unless he was on the phone. I was always happy to find him in the morning.
    Roland had hired a number of domestic workers, the cast rotating on an almost daily basis. There were both male and female servants, and although I was somewhat uncomfortable with the idea at first, I learned to be okay with it. This was a life of luxury, one that I had known nothing about in my previous life. And luxury could be strange sometimes.
    I called my mom a few weeks after I moved in, not really sure what to tell her. "I moved in with a guy," I had said.
    "Oh, are you getting married or something, Marisa?" She had been asking me that question for years and still I had nothing to offer in terms of an answer. "What about the job at the paper?"
    " I quit. This is kind of a business thing... but also kind of a relationship," I had said. The conversation with her really made me realize that I hadn't set any goals for my time with Roland, even if I didn't need any. My life had been going from one goal to the next until my burnout after I started the interview. I was still keeping notes in a journal—that was the only secret I kept from Roland.
    "Will you go back to your old job, Marisa? You were so good." My mother's voice had sounded so weak on the phone, so full of defeat.
    "Maybe, mom. I don't have these answers right now. I'm totally okay though. Things are better than ever."
    Were they really? Actually, they were. At the very least, I hadn't been working so hard. Roland's spell hadn't worn off at all either. He took me all over the house, anywhere we wanted to. With the most subtle touch of his fingers, he'd have me purring like a kitten, the moisture pooling between my thighs. We still spent a lot of time in his dungeon as well. Roland pushed my limits again and again, taking me to places that delighted and intrigued me.
    I had met a number of business associates by the time a few months had passed. Despite Roland's desire to be retired, his hands still remained involved in a number of vague projects that he promised he'd one day explain to me. There was one guy in particular—his name was Frederic and he was from France—that I had grown particularly fond of. His accent was incredibly cute, and he was gorgeous. Of all the business associates I had met, he definitely was my favorite by a long shot.
    So I was satisfied— I guess I could say that at the very least. Things started to change, however. I won't say that things got bad, just different. I awoke one morning to Roland standing next to my bed, his arms supporting a tray that contained our breakfast.
    "Good morning, Marisa. Looking lovely as always, I see." As usual, his lovely, red silk robe adorned him .
    "Geez, Roland. I literally just woke up and you're trying to tell me I look great?" I pulled my hair out of my eyes and got a good whiff of the air—coffee, eggs, and bacon. "What, no pancakes today?"
    "Sometimes the nose can't be trusted," Roland said. He lifted up a stainless steel cover to reveal a plate of pancakes. I giggled like a schoolgirl upon my discovery. Things could be so strange in the mansion.
    "Thanks, Roland," I said. I dragged my body across the sea of blankets until I reached where he was. He leaned forward and met my lips with a kiss that was brief, yet