In the Doghouse - Chapter 153
Richard’s words about being satisfied all along were likely sincere. Given everything he had shown her, she couldn’t believe it was an act. Just recently, hadn’t she admitted that she, too, had enjoyed everything he had asked for once they actually tried it?
But somehow, this time, his request didn’t feel like the answer she was looking for. Rough play. Being treated harshly. Was that really what Richard truly desired? Something felt lacking, like the core of his wish was missing.
But he was adamant, and without knowing what else to say, she could only nod.
“All right.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
The passionate atmosphere that had once filled the room had completely cooled by now. Courtney let her thoughts wander briefly before speaking up again.
“Is there anything specific you want me to do?”
“No, I’d like to leave that up to you, Courtney.”
“Then can you wait a bit? I need time to prepare, too.”
“Yes.”
“Understood.”
And with that, the conversation ended. Courtney quickly adjusted her appearance, eager to return and organize the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. She brushed off her skirt, straightened up, and turned to leave.
“Well, I’ll be going now. See you later.”
“Courtney, wait.”
She turned back at his call, glancing at Richard’s waist, where his clothes were haphazardly draped, and at the plug still lying on the desk. Usually, it was part of their routine for her to put it back in place for him.
“For now, just leave it.”
She spoke shortly like so, then slipped out of the room, almost as if escaping.
“Courtney…”
Richard stood there, momentarily lost in thought, before adjusting his clothes. Everything had gone according to his plan—she had agreed, albeit not enthusiastically.
But something felt off. He had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind.
* * *
In the end, Richard’s unease proved to be mostly unfounded. Courtney acted as if nothing was wrong the following day and even the days after. Unlike the time she’d been upset before, she didn’t over-immerse herself in work or try to avoid him.
However, there was one noticeable change. During dinner, she suggested—or rather, instructed—that they avoid entering each other’s spaces for a while, effectively halting any physical intimacy.
“It’s part of my plan, so cooperate, all right?”
Courtney said it casually, but Richard was so startled that he nearly forgot he was in the middle of dinner. The unease he’d been suppressing began to resurface, and he instinctively asked.
“For how long…?”
“Are you already getting impatient?”
He felt as if he’d stepped into a trap of his own making. But it was too late to go back now.
“…No, I understand.”
His voice carried a note of gloominess that made even her feel a slight pang of concern. She added, almost as if to reassure him.
“Just wait a little longer. I’m doing this to make it truly special.”
Her gaze was serious, even resolute, and despite his reluctance, he could only comply. After all, he had never been able to win against her.
Even though she sounded confident before him, Courtney was actually feeling quite burdened. Rough treatment, handling him like an object… It was easy to say, but she wasn’t sure she could reach the level he was hoping for.
However, her innate sense of responsibility wouldn’t let her do it half-heartedly. Just as she had dedicated herself to every task as the crown princess, she felt the same weight here—a pressure to make it a truly extraordinary experience.
She had pored over Richard’s infamous reference books countless times, crafting what she thought was the perfect plan. She excluded anything that crossed her line—things involving injury or harm—but otherwise, she prepared meticulously.
Each time she mentally ran through her plan, adjusting scenes as they came to mind, she’d find her undergarments inexplicably dampened. She wondered if she’d been secretly longing for this all along, unable to fully understand her own feelings, a chaotic mess of confusion and curiosity.
The ‘actors’ were ready, and the ‘script’ written. Now, she needed the ‘props’. When Hanson brought a large wooden chest into the office, Rebecca asked,
“Your Highness, where should I place this?”
“No, just leave it. I’ll handle it.”
Courtney quickly moved the chest under her desk, her heart pounding even though she knew it was securely locked. She couldn’t help feeling suspicious as she tried to maintain composure, aware that she could never display Richard’s level of shamelessness.
Rebecca noticed Courtney’s strange behavior and tilted her head, puzzled. Since recently, she’d felt like she was being left out of something, as if her lady was deliberately keeping her at a distance. She tried to recall if she had somehow slighted the crown princess, but nothing came to mind.
Courtney interpreted Rebecca’s confused expression as curiosity about the chest’s contents.
“It’s nothing…”
“Yes, Your Highness. Shall I bring some tea?”
Rebecca quickly adjusted her expression. Despite the privileges she enjoyed as a personal maid, she reminded herself that she was just a servant and that any feelings of being left out were misplaced.
“Yes, please.”
Despite all her preparation, Courtney found herself hesitating for days, constantly rechecking her plans out of anxiety. Would she be able to keep the right atmosphere? Would her actions cross any lines or cause him any serious harm?
