Page 28 of Vicious Vows

“You keep taunting me, thinking you’re so smart, but you’re not ready for me, baby girl. I’ll break you in two and still won’t stop because that’s the kind of selfish lover I am.”

“What makes you think I’m not ready?”

His eyes glint as he looks up. Before I can even begin to decipher what the look in his eyes means, he moves the vibe, pushing it into my anus. He moves it in and out, making me groan. It hurts, and it’s not very big. There’s no way I’ll ever want his cock there. While he fucks my ass, he lowers his head, covering my clit. I cry out as my orgasm washes over me, but he doesn’t stop. I shift, trying to get away. Everything is so sensitive that it hurts. But the more I squirm, the harder he sucks on my clit.

“Stop! Please, stop!”

I swear he pushes my legs apart even more. He works the vibe in and out of my ass, pulling another orgasm from me. A sheen of sweat covers my body and I’m literally panting. The cuffs dig into my wrists as I writhe, trying to get him off of me. He shoves two fingers inside of my pussy, making me cry out. In tandem, he works my ass, pussy, and sucks on my clit. My third orgasm is like a tidal wave. It crashes over me, stealing the air in my lungs until I feel like I’m drowning.

Finally, he pulls away, wiping his drenched mouth with the back of his hand.

“That’s what I mean, baby girl.”

He stands, crossing the room to the bar. After pouring himself a drink and tossing it back, he comes back to me, unlocking the handcuffs. There are bright red marks on my wrists from where I tugged against the cuffs that sting when he touches them. My buzz from earlier is now gone, leaving me exhausted, cold, and feeling a bit dirty, if I’m being honest with myself. Why do all of our encounters leave me feeling this way?

“I should get you home.”

Pushing myself to a sitting position, I say, “That’s going to be hard since you destroyed my clothes.”

He doesn’t answer me and crosses the room to a closet. A moment later, he tosses a long maxi dress at me. I stare at the red dress. Who does this belong to? I glance up, realizing the closet is filled with women’s clothes.

“Are these souvenirs left from previous conquests?”

“Something like that. Get dressed.”

Hot tears fill my eyes and I blink them away before he notices. As much as I don’t want to wear this dress, I see no other option. Grabbing it, I slip it over my head. When I turn, Odin hands me a tumbler.

“It’s whisky. Drink.”

I’m not a big whisky fan, but I toss it back, swallowing. It burns but leaves a trail of warmth in its wake.

“Better?”

Not even close.

I answer, “I’d like to go home now.”

He rounds his desk, grabbing his suit jacket and a briefcase. “Let’s go.”

“You’re coming with me?”

His eyebrow lifts. “Yes.”

“You don’t have to. Just put me in the cab that brought me.”

“Anna, I don’t like repeating myself. Let’s go.”

He crosses the room, opening the office door, waiting. I exhale softly and brush past him into the hallway.

“This way.”

He leads me down a different staircase that takes us to the first floor. Outside, an SUV is waiting with the backdoor open. I climb in first without being told, and Odin slides in next to me.

When the door closes, I ask, “Will you at least consider lifting my house arrest? I’m miserable.”

“You’re spoiled,” he corrects without looking my way. “I suggest reading a book.”

“I’m not spoiled.”

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