The laundry is clean and folded. The floor is spotless. Everything in its place. My body is restless, humming with energy that has nowhere to go. My protector is reading, calm. My demon side is not calm. It wants to be used. It wants to pin them down and taste their skin, feel their hands in my hair pulling me closer. I want to kneel between their legs and take their cock deep in my throat until they forget how to breathe. I want to feel their cum on my tongue, hot and thick, and then lick it clean from their stomach. I want them to use me until my pussy is sore and trembling, until my voice is gone from screaming. But the sun is still high, and the house is quiet. So I will sit here, perfectly still, and watch them turn a page. The waiting is a different kind of ache. It makes the eventual claiming so much sweeter.