Page 634 of Filthy Elites

“You have a whole wing of the house to yourself?” she raises a brow.

“I do. Don’t bother to call me an entitled bastard because I know where you live.”

“Then you know I don’t have a wing of the house to myself, and my home isn’t as ginormous as yours. I have an actual bedroom that’s called a room.”

“That’s because your mother wants you to have a taste of normal.”

“That makes no sense.”

It wouldn’t to her. This lavish setup is what you do when you want to get your kid as far away from you as possible. Almost as if they don’t exist. I could be missing for days over here, and no one would know because my father doesn’t check on me.

She has a room because she has an actual family who wants her around.

Mindlessly she walks in, and my eyes glue to her ass. While she’s looking at the art on the walls, I’m looking at her artistic curves and the plump flesh of her ass cheeks.

I wonder if she’d let me fuck her ass. Maybe when I bite it, I can claim it and do whatever the fuck I want. AnI licked it, so it’s minesort of thing.

When she looks at me over her shoulder and catches me ogling, I don’t look away like some pussy. I keep my eyes right where they are so she can see exactly what I’m doing, and there’s no mistake that I’m looking at her.

She blushes fiercely and turns right around to face me.

“Right this way.” I motion toward the little steps ahead of us. “You go first.”

“Since this is where you live, wouldn’t it make sense if you lead the way?”

That mouth of hers is going to get her in trouble. The good kind that benefits me.

I walk up to her and cup her face. “Not if I want to stare at your ass, Malyshka, and imagine all the ways I want to fuck it.”

Wide-eyed, she recoils out of my grasp, looking so terrified the vein on the side of her neck trembles.

That fear comes back to her eyes, and I know she wouldn’t have had many sexual experiences. If any. So, I don’t know how the hell she thought she was going to manage on that website.

“Go.” I give the command slow and purposeful.

Like a bastard, I like that she’s scared of me.

Her breath hitches when she turns to walk ahead and it’s clear she hates every second of this.

As she takes the first step, I return my hand to the small of her back.

Straightaway, I notice how her pulse quickens and her cheeks color again.

“Isn’t your father going to be home soon? Or someone parentlike?”

Parentlike. I like that, except I wish it weren’t in reference to my stepmother.

“No, I’m by myself. Are you nervous, Billie?”

“I’m not nervous, I just want to go home. How long are you keeping me here?”

“Not sure yet.”

When we get to my actual bedroom, which I admit looks as well put together as a hotel suite, she glances around again, more surprised than she was downstairs.

Because we’re in my bedroom, though, the surprise is short-lived.

When those green eyes meet mine again, she looks at me as if she knows the real games are about to begin. Cleaning my car was just the warmup, and now we’re going to be doing what I really want.

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