Page 52 of Kings of Decay
Ainsley scowled. "Don't worry, she'll pay for that."
I grinned as Willow pushed against me. "Oh, fuck, don't do that, Willow. You're just making me want you more." I grinded my cock against her ass.
Willow whimpered around the gag tied around her mouth. Her hazel eyes were wide. Terrified.
"Are you gonna kill me?" She mumbled around the gag.
"No," I breathed, stroking her long curly hair. "Why would we do that."
"Because I know what you did," she whimpered.
"I don't give a shit about what you saw, baby." I kissed her cheek, and she flinched away. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Willow," I said. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
She didn't believe me. I could tell by the skeptical look on her face. "You're lying," she mumbled, her voice shaking.
I smirked and moved my hand up her thigh. She shivered, goosebumps rising on her skin. "No," I said. "I want you."
Fear and disgust flashed in her eyes. She was dressed in fuzzy pajama pants and her UCLA hoodie, but she'd never been more sexy to me.
"Hands to yourself until we get to the cabin," Ainsley warned.
"Don't worry, we'll behave," I hissed. "Won't we, little mouse?"
A tear rolled down her cheek. "But do tell me, Willow," I said, moving my hand to trace the contour of her face. "Do you know why we did what we did?"
She bit at the rag, drenched with saliva, and I could see the questions swirling in her hazel eyes.
"Because he was going to hurt you," I said, gently running my hand further up her thigh. "And no one touches what's ours."
"I'm not yours," Willow's words were barely understandable through the gag.
"Oh, you will be."
Chapter thirty-five
Ainsley
Itouched my cheek.Scabs rose in tiny bumps over my skin where Willow had scratched at me through my mask. She'd almost drawn blood. I was impressed. Pissed, but impressed.
The Jeep rolled to a stop outside the cabin, the smoke and water damage long forgotten. We'd paid cash to some townsfolk to get it fixed up before the storms. Now, our little cabin was ready for Willow and everything we had planned for her.
"We're here," I said in a sing-song voice.
Willow mumbled around the gag as Pearce dragged her out of the backseat. Her legs were weak and wobbling beneath her.
"We made it," Pearce said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "You'll be safe and sound here with us, no worries. We just want you to relax a bit before we get started."
Before she could protest, Pearce pushed her into the cabin.
It looked different without the dozens of bodies dancing. The cabin was big, empty, and cold. Leather furniture, hard lines, and metallic accents -- her new prison was much more stylish than the pathetic cabin she rented.
Willow mumbled around the gag.
I locked the door with a snarl. "Take that thing off. It's annoying."
Pearce complied, holding her unnecessarily close while he untied the gag.
Willow let out a gasp, free from the soggy gag. She took in a breath to scream, but the sound died in her throat as I turned on her.
