Page 19 of Devious Madness

Immediately, she tries to wiggle away, so I let her. She stumbles back then falls straight onto her ass.

She lands with a grunt.

“You asshole!”

Reaching down, I grab her arm and pull her back to her feet.

“If you’re going to fight my help, you won’t get any, and you can piss your pants.” I stand in front of her, staring down at her.

The top of her head barely reaches my chin. She’s a tiny little pixie with a slender build. No match for a man my size. Yet she fights me like she could slit my throat in my sleep.

Maybe she can. I’ll have to hide my knife.

“Fine.” She stands still while I unbutton and unzip herjeans. While I push them over the curves of her hips, she turns her face away. I can feel the blush on her cheeks as I bend lower to shove them all the way down to her ankles.

“Okay.”

She continues to stare at me, the blush now on full display.

“Can you turn around?”

“I can.” I fold my arms over my chest. “But I won’t.”

“I’m not going to run away.” She protests.

I take my time letting my eyes wander over her body. The T-shirt she’s wearing covers her stomach but stops just above the small thatch of pubic hair.

She’s trimmed, but not bare. The dark curls are just long enough that I can pull on them if I want.

My cock thickens in my pants, pressing hard against the zipper, because I want to. Very badly, I want to curl my fingers into the small patch of hair and tug until tears spring to her beautiful eyes.

How sweet her tears must taste.

She finally gives up trying to out-wait me and works herself into a squat. Impressive, given her hands are bound behind her. In the dimness of the night, I can still make out her thigh muscles working to keep her from falling into the grass.

Remembering the empty fridge and cupboards in her apartment, my jaw tightens. The girl hasn’t eaten properly in months, of that, I’m sure.

She’s strong, but she’s skinny. From the pictureAlexander showed me to what I see before me, I’d gauge she’s lost at least fifteen pounds, maybe more.

“Can you please turn around.” She shouts up at me when she’s still hovering but nothing’s happening.

“If you have to go, you’ll go.” I stand my ground.

She lets out a low groan and clenches her eyes shut, probably trying to pretend I’m not watching her piss in the grass. If I was a true asshole, I’d keep talking. I’d take away whatever curtain she’s put around her mind.

Finally, she manages to relieve herself, and when she opens her eyes again, they meet mine. Her lips pinch together.

“Did you enjoy the show?” She mutters as she moves up a pace from the puddle she’s made and pushes back up to her feet.

I grab the handkerchief I keep in the inside pocket of my jacket and reach for her arm.

“What are you doing?” She twists away.

“Cleaning you up.” I get hold of her and pull her close enough that I’m able to wipe her. She tries to snap her legs closed as soon as I touch her but then realizes I’m just cleaning her and relaxes.

“Thanks.” She turns her face away when I’m done and am still standing close to her. “Can you…” She kicks her right foot out, signaling that her pants are still around her ankles.

“Is that how you ask?”

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