Page 49 of Claiming His Bunny
Against my better judgment, I find myself relaxing in his arms. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? I should be frightened out of my mind, but instead I’m…content?
I wriggle around a little. Not to move away from him, but to find a more comfortable position. He indulges me, then puts his arm back around my chest once I settle. I suck in a sharp breath when his thumb grazes my nipple. Mortified, I realize my body responds to his touch, my pussy getting wet and tingling in anticipation.
Jesus fucking Christ, I’m the worst captive ever! Or the best one, I guess. It really depends on perspective.
His body is responding too, judging by the hard cock poking my backside. I shudder, mostly in terror. There’s a tiny bit of excitement in there somewhere, but I choose to ignore it. I’m notthatmessed up.
I should probably say something.
Ask him to let me go? After all the trouble he went through to kidnap me, he’s unlikely to comply.
Beg him not to hurt me? He just said he wouldn’t, and that’s probably the best reassurance I’m going to get.
Besides, if he wanted to hurt me, he could have done it already. He could have done it a million times before. He could have hurt me while having sex with me, and yet, I was barely even sore in the mornings. He’d been so considerate while raping me that I hadn’t even realized I’d been raped until the test told me! Still…
“You raped me,” I whisper the stupidest thing you could say to a crazy person who just kidnapped you.
Tensing up, I brace myself for his anger, but he just kisses my shoulder. “I did. I…” He hesitates, then brushes the accusation off with ease I somehow know is fake. “You’re just so perfect I couldn’t help myself. If it’s any consolation, I wished you were awake the whole time.”
“Why wasn’t I? How did I not wake up when you were fucking me?”
He traces kisses from my shoulder to the base of my neck. I think he’s smiling. “You’re a creature of habit, my little bunny. You drink a cup of tea every single evening.”
As the meaning of his words reaches my brain, I want to smack myself. “You drugged me.” Of course he did. How did I not see that coming? I guess my ostrich strategy worked a little too well if I didn’t even realize how sleepy I became after drinking my tea. Every single day. God, I’m so stupid.
“Mmm,” he hums against my neck, anticipation making me shiver. “Don’t worry, it’s a safe drug. No side effects.”
“How considerate of you,” I grumble. I try to focus on how I should be scared and on plotting my way out of here, but the way he lightly nips at my neck is distracting. It evokes all kinds of emotions in me, and none of them are fear. Dammit!
He brushes away the stray lock of hair that has escaped from beneath my sleeping bonnet. I don’t even remember putting it on last night. He must have done it. Oddly enough, it makes me feel cared for. And grateful, because my curls get all tangled if I don’t cover them before going to bed.
A moan escapes me as he sucks my earlobe into his mouth. An earlobe! I’m so doomed. “Wait,” I protest, both against his ministrations and my body’s response. “Who are you?” It’s hardly the most important question right now, but it’s the only one I’m able to focus on.
I wriggle out of his arms and turn to face him. He doesn’t stop me.
The room is too dark for me to make out anything but an outline of his face. A familiar outline. Do I know him? His voice sounds vaguely familiar but not enough for me to distinguish who it belongs to or when or where I’ve heard it.
“Let me see you. Please.”
He kisses my forehead. “Need to confirm I’m not an ugly monster?” he asks, amused.
“I just… I’ve been imagining you for so long. I need to know. I need to…to make sure you’re real.” I sigh, knowing I’m not making any sense. “Please?”
To my surprise, he doesn’t protest. “Your wish is my command, my precious bunny,” he proclaims as he reaches over me and flips on the light switch.
It takes my eyes a few seconds to get accustomed to the sudden light. Then my mouth drops open. Lying in front of me is the last person I’d ever expect, even though it should have been obvious from the start.
Ethan fucking Bennet.
Chapter 29
Kayla
I can’t help butgawk at Ethan, completely flummoxed. “You. You? Really?” I shake my head.
In all seriousness, I should’ve seen it coming. After all, I dreamed about Ethan having sex with me, but even after I realized the sex part of the dream was real, I never even considered it was truly him. I thought my mind was putting a familiar face on the man who raped me to make the memory more bearable.
How could I have suspected Mr. Perfect?! After everything Michelle told me about him, how he’s an upstanding citizen and a local celebrity and helps CPS for free and the photo with the puppy and—“Oh my god,” I groan, my mind a reeling mess. “This is not happening.”
