Page 20 of His Property

I yank my hand from my pants and quickly kneel onto the bed to slap a hand over her mouth. I nudge my knee between her legs, spreading them, and lower myself until my face is inches from hers.

She squirms and screams into my hand, her eyes wide and air seesawing in and out of her nose.

“You wake up the kid, and I’m gonna hurt him,” I growl, digging my fingers into Mae’s cheekbones until she whines. “Do you understand?”

She closes her eyes and nods, and I slowly pull my hand away. Opening her eyes, she pulls her shoulders forward like she’s trying to sink into the bed. Her breathing is heavy and fast, close to hyperventilating, and it alone could wake the kid.

I turn my head toward the door.

“Don’t hurt him.”

I face Mae and look into her terror-filled eyes.

“Please,” she begs, a glossy sheen coming over her chocolate irises. “Do whatever you want to me, but don’t hurt him.”

The desperation in her voice and the way her body trembles squeezes my balls and sends a shiver down my spine. I close my eyes a moment to breathe it in, wanting to trap the ecstasy inside me.

I open my eyes to see her peering at me like she’s waiting for an answer. Like she’s holding on to a shred of hope that I’m not the monster she thinks I am.

She’s wrong.

But I’m still not hurting the kid. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about him, and even if I did, I’m not allowed to kill him. I already confessed that to her. Worst I would do is knock him out so he doesn’t do something stupid like call the cops or try to stop what I’m about to do.

“Make sure he stays asleep, and I won’t have to.”

She nods and inhales a shaky breath before turning her head slightly and looking away from me. Her hands are by her sides, and she gives no indication of putting up a fight, but I hold her wrists anyway and bring them above her head.

I run my other hand up her shirt and cup her breast.

She gasps when I pinch her nipple, hard, and she jerks in my hold.

I watch for the fear mixed with pain to come over her face, and I’m prepared for the burst of euphoria it always gives me. I see the same expression I’ve seen hundreds of times from my victims, but there’s one difference. One more emotion thrown into the mix, swirling in her irises along with the fear.

Desire.

My eyes narrow, and I just stare at her for several seconds. Her cheeks redden, and she turns her head away.

I’m imagining things.

Imustbe imagining things.

I pinch her nipple again, and she bites her lip on a groan.

“Do you like that?” I ask, my voice low.

Mae doesn’t respond, and I don’t wait long for her to. I nip her neck and make my way down to her chest, stopping when I meet fabric. I let go of her wrists and rip her shirt up and over her head.

When her fingertips accidentally graze my arm, I press my hand to her chest to pin her to the mattress. “Keep your hands flat on the bed,” I say, my voice ice.

She swallows and nods, meeting my eyes just long enough for me to see a reflection of my own arousal in her irises.

I shove my hand into her pajamas and slide my fingers along her slick and swollen folds. She’s soaked.

She fuckingwantsit.

My lips part, and my brows pinch while I slide two fingers inside her and pump. She bites her lip, but now I’m not so sure she’s trying to hold back a cry or a whimper. I think she’s trying not to moan.

I don’t know what to make of this. I’ve tried so many times to play with willing women in a kink setting, but it never works because I can’t get past the inauthenticity of it all. It isn’t real fear they’re gasping and shrieking from, it’s all an act. I feel like I’m chasing something, and when I push them to the point where itisreal, and I can finally get off, they end up getting me kicked out of whatever club I’m at or calling the police or moving so I’ll never find them again.

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