Page 107 of Wanted
Fylox sat down next to me, letting out a long exhale. “Technically, you haven’t done anything that deserves a punishment. I can’t punish you for being scared.” I lowered my gaze, biting my lip. What the fuck were we doing? Aram wanted them dead. He wanted me to pay for my sins. Fylox went on, “Be a good little princess, and hop on my lap.”
“Fylox, I think we should stop. I’m this close to throwing up. My head’s a mess.”
“Let me cure you.” Fylox touched the knot of my emerald wrap dress, and he undid it. “That’s what we do.”
“How do you want me?”
“Is that even a question?” His smirk was eerie. Fylox was rarely this happy this often. Why was he in such good spirits while I was almost dying inside?
Over his lap, with my ass in the air and my long legs crowding the sofa, I settled my head on my own arms. I awaited my punishment. This smelt like a spanking. I didn’t know what good it would do.
“Can you get me a drug? Any kind. Something you also take. Let’s take it together. If you supervise me, Alex will allow it. Don’t tell my brother…” I mumbled, shifting on his lap. I caused friction against his crotch. His hard cock dug into my belly.
He ignored my ramblings.
“You’re the most magnificent creature my eyes have ever feasted on, you know that, right?” he said, his finger tracing the line of my spine.
“You’ve never said that to me before,” I told him, shutting my eyes. I was trying to drown the tears out.
“My best friend’s in love with you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” His hand groped me at first, but then he started massaging my cheeks. “We’ve been hurt enough, haven’t we?”
I nodded, feeling his dick twitch against me.
Fylox pulled up the fabric of my emerald dress, revealing my invisible thong to him. His hand grabbed my ass, squeezing it to the point of making me squirm under his touch. He had this warmth to his touch, although he was constantly cold as a person.
“If he touches you again, I’ll put a hole in his head. I’ll do that after I leave him alive while slicing his body parts.” His voice was a drug of its own. In the background somewhere, I heard Alex open up the fridge in the kitchen. “You can watch me do that to him. I think that’ll do you good.”
“I can’t watch you kill my father.”He can’t be killed, I told myself. He’s the King of Katantia.
Fylox’s fingers found my thong, pulling it to the side. He dipped below, finding my wetness. “He harmed you. He harmed this pussy. Our pussy. I saw him touch you today, and I wanted to cut off his fingers, one by one. But that would be humane. If I had it my way, I’d take a drill, and I’d use it on every surface of his body. Would you like to see that happen, my good little princess? I’d bore him hundreds of holes. I’d be curious to see how his dick reacts when I…”
“What’s going on with you?” I asked. I couldn’t shake the feeling off that something was wrong, more so than usual.
“I’m just learning what it feels like to get what I want in life. Now, count.”
I bit my lip, squeezing my eyes. This was risky. My heart pounded heavily, and my anxiety spiked, waltzing around inside of me like she owned my soul. I didn’t like public humiliation, but here I was, in my living room with an exposed pussy. The windows were wide open, and the front door was unlocked. Any of the guards could walk in on us. Jordan was upstairs in Mandy’s room, doing whatever men his age did in private. I didn’t want to think about what he did because he was my father-in-law and my protector now. He’d done so much in such little time. I respected him in ways I hadn’t respected a person in years.
Fylox’s hand collided with my cheeks. He was warming up. “One.”
“Two,” I blurted out. The second strike stung worse. The next strikes were the calm before the storm, and I shifted on top of Fylox’s lap to gain some friction.
“Stop moving. You’re making a mess out of your dress,” Fylox warned me. I felt his voice in the depths of my being. Deep and obnoxious, he was making up for his earlier outburst.
“I don’t care,” I pleaded.
“You don’t get to change clothes until later tonight.”
I rolled my eyes, and Fylox didn’t need to see it for himself. His open palm connected with my flesh, and I gasped. What followed was a row of strikes that had me holding my breath. We were halfway through, and he was giving it his all. When he didn’t hear me count, he did it again, harder.
Not once did he dip his fingers between my thighs. He massaged my cheeks every now and then, whenever he felt like it. Like I wasn’t dying here.
“Twenty-five.” All the fire that concentrated in me skittered down low. I took deep breaths, but whatever we did worked. For a moment there, I wasn’t me.
Fylox’s fingers tortured my skin, purposefully avoiding the wetness building between my thighs.
“Please.” The word came out as a breath.
“Please, what?” he asked, sounding awfully amused.
