Page 56 of Kept

“I chose to run from one,” I whisper. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt me, Enzo.”

Brave words, but his hands are gentle on my skin. His body pauses, his fingers lifting.

“Don’t trust me,” he whispers. “I could break you so easily, little prey.”

Maybe he could, and maybe I’m as naive as they imagine… but I’m not sure he’s going to.

I don’t want him to stop touching me.

“Don’t stop.”

He jerks. “You think pretty words are going to save you?”

I shake my head. “I don’t care. Just… don’t stop.”

He sets his hands against my legs, one on each side, and moves them upwards in sweeping strokes over my skin. The movement pushes my dress up, and I’m dangerously close to him seeing my most intimate parts.

I hold my breath, watching his inked hands caress my skin. His skin tone is paler than mine, his hands big and warm as his fingers brush the edges of my dress.

He looks up at me. “I’m not nearly done with you yet, little prey.”

His fingers push up my dress, inch by tortuous inch, and my legs tremble as his eyes follow.

A cry falls from my lips when his hand cups me suddenly, rightthere.

My body feels too sensitive under his grip, and I truly thrash against the restraints for the first time, bucking as he holds me. He pulls his hand away, and I shake as he moves over, grabbing the stool and pulling it over as he settles himself on it, his knees spread.

“What…” My words cut off as he pushes my legs open even further.

“Stop moving,” he says sharply. “I want to look at you.”

It takes me a second too long and he raises his hand. His palm connects with my hot flesh, the slapping sound echoing around us. I still, panting.

He reaches forward, his fingers pulling apart my folds as he looks at me. The light shines above us, and I squeeze my eyes shut, too overcome with embarrassment and something deeper, hotter, to watch.

The protest dies on my tongue, unspoken as he traces his fingers over me, rightthere.

“So pretty and pink and plump,” Enzo murmurs. His hand strokes across me and I make a noise in the back of my throat. “All these pretty curls are hiding you from me, little prey.”

He pulls on one. “Stay still.”

I open my eyes, staring down at where he balances a knife in his fingers. Holding the handle, he leans forward, and I bite my lip as I feel a soft scrape against my skin. My cheeks flush even brighter, heating my face as Enzo cuts away the curls that cover my genitals, laying them out one by one on my stomach. It flexes under his light touch, and he squeezes my hip. “Still.”

When he’s finished, I can’t look at him for the embarrassment heating my body from the inside out. One hand grips the inside of my thighs, and he squeezes. “Open your eyes, prey.”

Slowly, I crack them open. The knife is still in his other hand, and he flips it so the blade is held in his grip.

“Have you ever had a cock inside you?”

His words are low and dark, and they make my heart thump inside my chest. “N-no?”

I know the basics. The anatomy of the human body. The differences between us, and that the pieces… fit together. But Ethan confiscated the textbook that taught me even that small amount.

And this feels nothing like the cold impracticality of those images. This is fire, and heat, as though I’m going to burn up into ash under Enzo’s touch.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Ours will be the last.”

Shock renders me immobile. “O-ours?” I manage to croak.

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