Page 37 of Beautiful Deception

“I don’t either,” Remo agrees offhandedly from behind the other man.

“Do you want to know why you’re here?” Dr. Kian asks while cupping my cheek and brushing his thumb under my eye.

Something deep in my gut tells me he’s not talking about being in my house, but rather, me involuntarily receiving attention from them. If I don’t say anything, then the question can only be about the physical location.

I slap his hand away, and he simply chuckles like I’m a petulant child huffing and puffing over a trivial matter.

“It’s my house,” I scoff and throw the duvet off my bare legs. “Why else would I be here? If anything, neither of you should be here.”

“Your family gave me the door’s passcode,” Remo shares as he inches back when Dr. Kian stands up.

My family knows how much I cherish my privacy and security, especially after experiencing the ramifications of my kidnapping.

“See how easy it was to take you away?” Dr. Kian presses his hand to the side of his neck, rolling the muscles until a faint pop bounces into my ears.

In less than five minutes, he explains in the most detached tone how he rolled the suitcase containing my unconscious body onto the rescue team’s truck, drove me to the private practice where he owned thirty percent of the stock, and persuaded my parents of a different version of events that occurred at the villa.

I could tell he left out many details of what went on the last four days.

“I promised them I’d take care of you,” he adds attentively, “and we intend to do our best.”

I need some alone time to process things. Lifting a hand, I stop the next person from talking and sit with my thoughts with them towering over me.

I can’t physically overpower or outrun them, I don’t have any drugs to render them unconscious, and I don’t have a plan to stay three steps ahead of them. They could’ve planned this for months or years.

One is an influential doctor with connections to some of the most powerful people who may be patients of his, and he can easily use their hidden skeletons to his advantage.

The other is an FBI agent, who I can reasonably presume has the counter-surveillance ability to make me vanish and start a new identity.

My family is wealthy and powerful, but I doubt they have ties to the underworld. Most importantly, this seems to be the best outcome for everyone. I wouldn’t put it past them to hide me in a place where I’ll never see sunlight again, dead or alive.

One step at a time, I convince myself as I swing my legs over my bed to stand.

Pleasure rages between my thighs when my legs are accidentally tense enough to feel my clit rubbing against a pair of silk panties. My eyes dart to my pants, but they aren’t there. I’m only wearing a large shirt, and the design and size aren’t ones I’d ever look at.

My thighs won’t stop trembling, and the panties hugging my pussy force the slick to smear so my tender skin isn’t rubbing on the satin. My clit aches like it’s been rubbed and tugged harshly.

I stagger to the left, catching myself on the bedframe, and disparagingly throw a distraught frown at the two men who haven’t taken their eyes off me for a second.

In my sleep, I screech in my head. I was—oh, God.

My cheeks flush at the involuntary thought of them pulling my panties aside and burying their faces into my pussy, sucking on my clit with vigor, and dipping their deft tongue into my unused hole to swallow the viscous juices.

They look suspiciously confused at my flustered state.

“I was hungry,” Remo admits with such honesty that Dr. Kian laughs.

***

Why did it become like this?

I’m bound by the wrists, naked on the bed, my skin still warm from the shower, and my legs spread open without my panties. They’re tattered on the ground, another pair ruined, but the other pair had creamy white stains drenched into the fabric.

When I stepped out of the connected bathroom, Remo had a tight grip on my arm and hauled me onto the bed with immovable pressure. His movements were quick and prescience, and before I knew it, I was tied and my pussy out in the cold air.

“A little too tight,” Dr. Kian mumbles to himself as he lowers his head, contemplating insistently while he stares at my pussy.

I push his head away from my thighs, but Remo snatches my wrists and sets them on my heaving chest with ease. His eyes never leave the aching bundle of nerves sticking out from my folds, and the tingling from before hasn’t stopped while new waves of insatiable hunger arise.

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