Page 14 of Beast

I steady her with my hand. “Calm down. You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

She tenses at the sound of my voice. “Shit, did I fall asleep.” I notice her gaze dip down to my cock between her thighs and the sticky precum that’s leaked onto her skin.

“Yeah, and I got fucking hard watching you,” I breathe against the back of her neck, holding her close. “Turn around and straddle me so I can look into your pretty blue eyes.”

She doesn’t move at first, testing my patience. “Do I need to remind you of the rules.” I tease my hand over her throat, threatening to block her airway.

Quickly, she moves and straddles my thighs, pressing my dick against her pussy as she does. Her brow furrows as she glances down. “What the?—”

“I played with you a little while you slept and tore your panties.”

Her eyes widen. “What the fuck?”

My hand circles her throat. “No dirty language, good girls don’t swear.”

Her reply is a nod. I consider demanding she reply with words, but instead, I turn my attention to polite conversation. “Tell me something about yourself. What did you do in America before you were kidnapped?”

She clenches her jaw, clearly irritated that I’m changing the subject considering I played with her while she slept. My cock is throbbing against her pussy and since she woke she’s got even wetter. “I was a student,” she says simply.

“What were you studying?” I trace a finger along her cheekbone, a feather-light touch that makes her visibly shiver.

“Psychology.”

My smirk grows. “Convenient. I’m sure you’d have a lot of psychoanalysis when it comes to me, beautiful, wouldn’t you?”

Her eyes narrow. “Yes, I already know you’re a sociopath or perhaps borderline psychopath.”

“And what about you, baby girl? Shouldn’t you psychoanalyze yourself? After all, you orgasmed with my cock choking your throat. Clearly that says something about your psychology, does it not?”

Her expression turns furious. “No, it’s common when women are put in those situations to have a physiological response to the assault. It doesn’t mean I wanted it.”

I laugh. “The thing is Blake, I know you wanted it. I saw the way your eyes lit up when my cock hit the back of your throat. Hell, I saw it the moment you set eyes on it.” I wrap a hand around the back of her neck, gripping tightly. “Let’s not play games here. You love every second of this.” I lean in closer, allowing my breath to tease against her ear. “You’re so wet for me right now, my cock is covered in your cum.”

“Sir, we’re here,” Jorge, my driver speaks through the intercom.

I clench my jaw at the interruption and force Blake into the seat beside me. “Time for you to see your new home,” I say, switching my tone into casual. I stuff my cock back into my pants and zip them up, ignoring the fact I’ve got a wet patch when her pussy was leaking all over me.

Jorge pulls up in front of Elysium, my apartment building where I own the penthouse. And then he gets out and opens the door for Blake, who slides out onto the sidewalk, yanking her dress down self-consciously. It’s just like Ileana to dress my purchase in such a trashy outfit when she knows I value class. Not that it matters, Blake has a whole new wardrobe waiting for her inside.

I slip a hand onto the small of her back and guide her toward the entrance of the apartment building. “Welcome to Elysium, baby girl.”

She scoffs, glaring at me. “Something tells me Elysium is going to be contrary to what it’s like living here.”

I tilt my head. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” Pressing harder against her back, I lead her into the opulent lobby which is adorned with marble and crystal chandeliers.

The security guard nods at me. “Welcome home Mr. Marques.”

I give him a nod. “Thanks.” And then I press the button for the top floor and wait for the elevator to arrive. While waiting, I study Blake. She’s standing in front of me, her posture rigid, her hands clasped in front of her.

It shouldn’t be possible for a girl to look so strikingly beautiful in a dress so fucking trashy.

The elevator arrives with a soft ding and we step inside. I press the button for the top floor and look into the eye scanner on the wall above. It IDs me and then moves upward, while I tap my foot impatiently. Blake hasn’t said a word since we left the limo and the silence feels more palpable in such a tight, confined space.

“What are you thinking?” I demand, wondering why I ever care what she’s thinking. It’s not often I concern myself with the thoughts and feelings of women I buy.

She doesn’t respond, staring at the elevator walls as we ascend to my apartment.

“I asked you a question, beautiful.” I move my hand from the small of her back to the back of her neck and squeeze. “Answer me.”

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