Page 72 of Captivated

“Why is that?”

“Because I love spoiling brats like you.” He pulls my hair and I gasp, not expecting that. “So when I’m paying for your time, I want you to call me daddy. I want you to tell me how much you love my generosity. I want you to tell me all you’re going to do to earn my affection and money.”

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

His eyes take on a different look. They shift away from friendly to something more sinister. His façade completely falling.

“You denied me yesterday, and it seems all it took was more money for you to agree to see me. That tells me all I need to know about you, Pretty Kitty.”

“And that is?” I ask, my voice strained. I’m trying to remain calm so I can maneuver myself out of here without getting hurt. Or worse.

“That you’re expensive, and not for everyone.” He runs his finger down my arm to my hand that’s resting on my thigh, where he circles his finger around one of the holes of my fishnets.

“Did I say you could touch me?” I challenge, and he grins, his eyes dancing with mirth. It’s time to give him bitch kitty, and not good little kitty.

“Is that the game you want to play?”

“I’m not playing anything. I never said you could touch me.”

His eyes dance even more and he reaches into his coat, pulling out another small stack of cash. “How about now? That has to earn me a small touch. Or you can take something off and I won’t touch you. I like looking, too.” He winks, and my stomach rolls.

I don’t want to be here.

I’d rather grovel at Nico’s feet and beg him to let me borrow money than be here right now.

What the fuck am I doing?

Fuck my pride, and fuck my stubborn stupidity.

“You don’t have enough money to be able to touch me,” I tell him. “Or look at me.”

I go to stand, and he puts his hand on my thigh, digging his fingers into me to the point of pain.

“Ow, what are you doing?”

“You think you’re too good for me? You’re a stripper for fuck’s sake. You can’t be better than me. I pay, and you give me what I want. That’s how this works.”

“Get your hand off me,” I grit out, trying to shove him away from me. He doesn’t budge, and instead pins me down by wrapping his other hand around my bicep. “Get off me!” I say louder, but he just smiles.

“I like some fight in a woman. That’s what makes the chase all the more fun.” He tries to kiss me, so I turn my face away so all he gets is my cheek. “But not too much fight,” he adds.

He drags me away from the corner of the couch and goes to straddle me to pin me down where I know it’ll be harder to escape.

That’s when the reality of what’s about to happen hits me and I freeze for a split second before kicking it into high gear and fighting like hell any way I can.

He may have a hold of my leg and arm, but I’m still able to reach between his legs to grab his dick. I squeeze him as hard as I can and he yelps out a squeal that I find immensely satisfying.

But the next thing I know, the back of his hand is connecting with my cheek, and my fears turn to pure anger.

I’m angry I put myself in this situation. I knew coming in this room was a bad idea from the start.

I’m angry this piece of shit thinks he can touch me because he tossed some money on the table.

I’m angry I pushed Nico away again, when all I want to do is pull him closer.

I wish he was here.

I want to tell him how sorry I am and that I’ll do anything to gain his trust back and promise to never lie to him again.

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