Page 72 of Cunning Lies
“I trust you,” he says, but his words are cold and flat.He’slying for once.
My stomach quivers.Stop overreacting,I tell myself, but I can’t.
“Don’t you trust me?” he asks.
Before I can answer, he lunges forward. Instinct pulses through me and I run. Kenzo wouldn’t hurt me—I don’t think so, at least—but he’s still part of Endo-kai. Did he finally figure out that my uncle and I have been plotting against him?
Maybe he knew all along.
I fling myself down the hallway, almost making it toward the front door when he pulls on my hair and I crash to my knees. We’re both grunting and I fight, but he rips off my nightgown. I’m naked and the stench of my fear floats between us, rancid with sweat. He laughs.
“So my little slut likes being chased,” he says.
“Obviously, you son of a—”
I use my legs to knock his shins and he trips,just barely,but it gives me enough time to get to my feet. But he grabs me again, pulling me down to my hands and knees, then he uses his weight to keep me still. Once my wrists are behind my back, he locks the handcuffs into place. His cock digs into me, right between my ass cheeks, and I scowl.
“Is this a game to you?” I ask hopefully, but I know the answer. Thisisn’ta game anymore. This is business.
This is about the Endo-kai.
He yanks the short chain between the handcuffs, leading me like a dog, and the metal digs into my wrists. Once we’re in the black room, he forces me down onto the cold metal seat, then binds my chest to the chair. He closes the door behind us. We’re swallowed in darkness, and that glowing red light is the only thing I can see.
I kick my ankles against the chair, the metal banging around us. He didn’t tie my legs down. I can still run.
And how would you open the door?I argue with myself.You can’t exactly use your hands.
But my mind can’t concentrate. My head is pounding.
What is this about?
“How many people do you think are watching you right now?” he asks.
I’m naked and bound, and he’s letting the world see me like this?
“You’re live-streaming this? What the hell, Kenzo? This is—”
A stinging sensation zips through me, making my bones curl inside of each other, and if it weren’t for the chair, I’d collapse. The electricity stops, and by the time I can think again, I don’t sense him anywhere. I blink, trying to focus on something, to at leastseewhere he is, but it’s so dark and still. I clear my throat, just to hear something.
“You love being watched, don’t you, slut?” he asks. “How many men do you think are jerking off to your torture right now?”
“Torture?” I hiss. “You fucking creep—”
“Do you think they’re fucking their palms as I beat the answers out of you? Do you think they wish they were the ones beating and fucking your cunt right now?”
Is he really letting people watch this, or is he messing with me? And why—oh god,whydoes that turn me on?
“Kenzo—”
“Who are you working for?”
“Working for?” I gawk, my jaw hanging open. “Jesus christ, Kenzo. You can just—”
Electricity zaps through me again, and I can’t breathe. The pain curls through every joint in my body, taking every ounce of control. Then it’s gone, replaced by a vibrating sensation between my legs. A damn vibrator. I thrust it off of the chair, and Kenzo scoffs.
“Which would you rather choose? The vibrator or the zapper?” he asks.
My stomach drops. I shift my hips back, opening my legs. He presses the vibrator against my clit.
