Page 21 of His Property

Now, it should be real. Itisreal. There’s no mistaking the fear clouding the room, but the desire is overpowering it. I can’t tell if I like that or not.

I flip Mae over and try to stop overthinking this. She’s beautiful.Gorgeous. She’s here. She’s vulnerable. My cock is throbbing. I wanna fuck her. Nothing else matters.

I pull down her pajamas, then shove my own pants down to my thighs. My cock springs and slaps her bare ass, and I groan. I lift her hips and press a hand between her shoulder blades to hold her down. She shifts on her knees to situate herself, and I line up at her entrance.

Her body trembles beneath me, her heavy breaths erratic. I close my eyes and shove inside her tight cunt, relishing the cry she lets out into the pillow. My fingers dig into her as I shove into her again and again, and I already start to feel myself getting close to the edge. This feels so fucking good, my body doesn’t even know how to hold itself together.

A rush of something liberating runs through me as I open my eyes and stare down at this fucking goddess. Her hands are by her head, gripping the pillow that her face is shoved into. I can hear her moaning cries regardless, but I doubt much sound filters past the bedroom door.

I pull out of her and flip her over, pinning her shoulders and laying myself on top of her. That same desire and fear combo sparkles in her eyes, and it shoots ecstasy straight to my cock. It’s odd, but I think Idolike it.

I lick my lip before planting a kiss on her mouth that she doesn’t return. I kiss her again, wrapping my hand around her throat as I do, and she must think I’m threatening her because she kisses me back.

My hips thrust, impaling her, and she lets out a moan that I stifle with a squeeze to her throat. Her eyes shoot open, and I pull back a few inches to stare into them. I pump into her, grinding my hips with as much force as I can, and I allow small bits of air on and off.

The desire has vanished, and she breaks my rule about keeping her hands on the bed when she tries to pry my hands away.

I squeeze tighter and fuck her harder.

“You can thank me for this later,” I say, moving my free hand to her clit and rubbing.

My hold on her neck loosens to let her inhale a sharp breath, and then I close off her windpipe again. Her face reddens, and tears glisten in her eyes, but her body responds just as I expect it to.

Her pussy grasps me, and her back arches, pressing her breasts into my chest as she comes.

I let go of her throat and brace myself on the bed with both hands while my balls tighten and my cum explodes inside her pussy. Pinpricks run over my back, and I close my eyes and let the satisfaction of it bathe me.

It takes me a few moments to register the heavy breaths Mae inhales, and I open my dazed eyes to take her in. Her hands are around her throat, and her head is turned like she doesn’t want to look at me. Finally, something normal.

“I can’t wait to get you home,” I say, my words coming out cryptic and hinting at all the things I have in my head.

If I thought I could resist temptation before, I’m hopeless now. This is everything I’ve wanted. I’ll never get another opportunity like this.

She turns and peeks at me, questions swirling in her eyes.

Before she gets the chance to ask them, I take her face in my hands and press my lips to her forehead.

“Forgive me for this,” I say, just before grabbing a snow globe off the nightstand and rearing it back.

7

MAE

Iwake up with a splitting headache.

I wish I could say I don’t remember last night, giving me a few seconds of peaceful ignorance, but that doesn’t happen. The first thought that enters my mind is more like an image, and it’s Victor’s. The second thought is that my head hurts. The third is that I’m cold.

I slowly open my eyes and groan past a gag. The dim, red light illuminating the room is too much for my eyes, which is saying something. I wince and immediately want to dig my head into the soft pillow I’m resting on, but I force myself to be alert.

I sit up, the weight of a chain apparent on my neck. I drag my sore legs across a satin sheet and pull my knees to my naked chest. My arms wrap around my knees as I search for Victor, but I don’t see him.

My jaw aches, and I reach around my head to remove the gag, but I can’t figure out how to unclip it. My fingers graze a metal groove, almost a hole, and it reminds me of the lock handcuffs have.

There’s a collar around my neck, and a chain is hooked to it. I twist my head then follow the top of the chain to a beam above me. There’s a crank that adjusts the slack so I can move about, although I don’t know how far. I tug at the collar, but of course, I find another metal groove instead of a buckle.

Giving up on the gag and collar, I take in my surroundings. I’m in a basement, I think. One converted into a red room. Literally and figuratively. A special bulb dangles above this cage-like, iron bed I’m sitting on, and it bathes the room in red. A board covers the lone, tiny window that some basements have high on the wall, and light shines in through a crack in it.

It’s morning already? How long have I been out?

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