Page 41 of Velvet Cruelty

I try to pull my hand from him, but Doc holds me fast.

“Tempting,” he mutters. “Too fucking tempting. I’ve never been into virgins, but you…”

Without warning, he kisses me. Hard. My brain blurs as our mouths move together with far too much familiarity. The fluttering in my pussy becomes a throb.

Doc releases me. “You’re just a horny little hand grenade, aren’t you?”

“You’re disgusting.”

His teeth flash in the semi-darkness. “You’re like one of those Disney Channel girls, kept squeaky clean for way too long.”

His hand slides across my shoulders, making my skin spark. “I think the pendulum’s ready to swing the other way, don’t you?”

I open my mouth and he cuts me off with another kiss. This one is deeper, his tongue flashing expertly over mine as he shoves the blanket down, exposing my breasts. He palms them, rubbing roughly. “Fuck you’ve got great tits.”

“No…”

“Yes. Now, shhh.” He moves closer, his lips brushing my cheek. “I know you, Tesorina. Better than you know yourself. You want freedom.”

I struggle sideways. “I do not—”

“You were jealous of your friends for going on dates. Jealous of your sister for wearing clothes not made by grandmas. You wanted to be them so badly it cut you up inside.”

My protests die in my throat. I confessed to him. He already knows my darkest secrets.

He cups my breast, pressing them together. “Pretty little January stuck at home, engaged to some limp dick old man. Never getting to have fun. Never going out. It was so fucking unfair, wasn’t it, Tesorina?”

His words scratch some long-hidden itch in my brain. It feels good to hear someone say it out loud.

Doc rubs his stubble against my cheek. “Give yourself to me and you can do whatever you want. Wear whatever you want. You can get on stage and watch men bankrupt themselves just to look at you. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

I swallow. “If I did what you wanted, I’d still be trapped. I’d belong to you.”

Doc grips my arms, lifting me onto his lap. “You don’t want to be mine?”

We’re practically nose to nose and I’m topless. Bottomless, if he decides to tug away the last of the blanket. I stare at him, breathing hard. He gives me a strange look. Is he about to tell me I’m beautiful? That he’s fallen for me?

Doc frowns. “I’m not the jealous type. You can fuck whoever you want. Experiment. As long as you’re bringing in money, I don’t give a shit.”

I flinch. Does he really mean that? I try to imagine sleeping with people from his clubs. The men who pay me. My stomach drops to my feet. “I don’t want that.”

“Liar.” Doc bends forward and captures one of my nipples in his mouth. Wet heat pulses through me and I throw my head back.

“See,” he says, releasing my nipple. “Do the Catholic schoolgirl thing all you want, but you’re aching.”

“No, I—”

“Spare me. I’m not Morelli.” He turns us onto the bed, his body arching over mine like a tattooed cage. I screw up my eyes and try to ignore the glow between my legs.

“Tell me you don’t want me?”

It should be easy. Just four little words. But I’ve never been a good liar and as much as I hate this man, the words won’t come.

Doc’s hands return to my breasts, and he lowers his mouth to my other nipple, drawing on it and making my whole body jerk.

“Doc!”

His tongue circles my sensitive peak. “Say my real name.”

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