“I’d say you’re about this close to begging for me,” he purrs, holding up the same two fingers that were just inside of me.
“No,” I manage to whisper.
“Yes,” he whispers back. “Now open wide.”
I stare at his fingers as they get closer and closer to my mouth, my wetness shining on them. I clench my mouth shut, but he grabs my jaw with his free hand and forces it open.
No. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
I gaps, my eyes flying open. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. I sit myself up, looking around the room.
“It was a dream,” I whisper to myself. But that doesn’t help. In fact, that makes it worse. My own brain made that up on its own. What is that supposed to mean? What am I supposed to do with that information?
The window across the room shows a little bit of light coming from outside. No doubt, the sun is beginning to rise.
I bring my knees to my chest and look around. Sam is nowhere to be seen, but for some reason, I feel like he’s watching me.
And maybe a small part of me doesn’t find that as scary as it should.
11
SAM
Sam
“Sir, breakfast will be ready soon.”
“Thank you, Elliot, please make sure there are two settings at the table. My guest will be joining me.”
“Right away, sir.”
Once my private chef leaves the office, I turn back to the boxes in front of me. My lips curl into a smile. Everything is perfect, and I’m already imagining her in every single piece.
“Kelsey!” I shout. A moment later, I hear footsteps.
“Yes, Mr. Warwick?” Kelsey asks as she walks in.
“Please bring these boxes into the dining room and place them on the table,” I address her, not even glancing her way.
“Yes, Mr. Warwick.”
“And stay close to the dining room. I’ll need your assistance.”
“Of course, sir.”
I turn towards the windows in my office as she grabs the boxes and carries them out of the room. Once she’s gone, I turn back around and take a seat at my desk.
It’s been a week since Kim has been here, and things have been a bit… hostile since then. She doesn’t seem to want to cooperate with anything. But that’s going to change very soon. I’ll make sure of it.
Today is step one.
Ten minutes later, my chef alerts me that breakfast is ready. I stand, stalking out of my office and downstairs to the dining room. Taking my seat at the table, I glance at her chair.
“Kelsey!”
“Yes, sir?” she asks, stepping into the room.
“Please bring down my guest.”