Page 19 of Better Run
I open them again. He stares me down while I play. I do my best to glare back. Electric tingles shoot in waves from my core, and my muscles clench. I feel myself get wetter as sounds start to fuzz from the pressure on my neck. I jerk my hips up to meet my fingers. I’m slipping closer and closer into a spiral of pleasure as dark eyes stare back at me.
Just as I’m about to come, a loud voice demands, “Stop.”
I let out a frustrated cry. The hand releases me. My inner muscles flutter, needing release.
“Only good girls get to come. And you are not one.” Jayden pulls something out of his pocket, and before I can react, slips it around my ankle and locks it together.
I look down.
An ankle monitor.
A god-damned ankle monitor.
Fire fills my blood. I spit, “Your mother never loved you, did she?”
He laughs, and the sound is full of menace, “No, kitten. She didn’t.” He leans into me and his breath comes hot through the mask. “The sooner you get this, the better things will go for you. You belong to me. You belong to him. We control the very air you breathe. Your orgasms. Where you go and what you do. You’ll be our good little pet, or we’ll punish you. And punishments only get worse from here.”
I growl, shame and anger fill me, “I hate you,Sir.” More than I’ve ever hated anyone.
He laughs and throws the mask off his face, his dark hair tousled, his cheekbones catching the low light. “You have no idea. I haven’t scratched the surface of what I’m going to do to you.”
Jayden stands.
“Help her back Cole.” He looks at me in disgust. “That foot needs to be looked at again.”
He drops down from the bed of the truck and disappears.
Cole slides the mask off his face and holds out a hand to me.
“I got it,” I snap, then follow with a mocking, “Master.”
He chuckles.
I pull my leggings back up, realizing how exposed I am. I stand and also realize how much I’m bleeding. Running must have opened the cut more.
Cole turns his back to me and crouches down.
“Hop on.”
A piggyback ride? Jesus, what dimension am I in? I’m getting whiplash from their mood changes. I consider refusing but know that’ll get me in more trouble. I hesitantly wrap my legs around his back. I grab only as much of his shoulders and chest as I need to keep from falling off. He gets us out of the truck and walks us out of the garage. He walks like I weigh nothing.
He’s warm and muscled under me. We walk back to the cabin. Once inside, he sets me on the kitchen island and puts in the code in the alarm box.
I watch, but he uses his body to shield what he’s doing.
He returns.
The sound of a car engine sounds from outside.
He puts both his hands on the outsides of my thighs. “He’s going to town to get more supplies. Just you and me, lemon drop.”
I glare at the stupid name.
“Lemon, cause your hair.” He gestures at my blond, “And because you’re tart. I like it.”
“I hate it.”
He ducks his head into my neck and takes a deep breath through his nose. “Noted. I’ll take it up with management. Now give me your foot.”
