“What?” I smirk, coming to his side so I can see his shocked face. “Were you expecting me to live in a box?”
He turns and his curious eyes narrow in. “Exactly how can you afford a place like this? You’ve been locked up for five years, and I know they don’t let you play the lottery on the inside.”
“You see”—I urge him forward, leading him down the hall to the restroom—“they let convicts have two hours of computer time every day.” I push him through the doorway. “I made good use of mine. Now, it’s time for you to get clean.”
Again, he takes in the details of the bathroom, shock and what looks to be awe back in his features. I have to say, it is pretty impressive. The wide-open shower built to look like a cave. The stone sinks and hand-carved vanities. The huge landscape window, giving the view of the forest. It sure as hell beats that hole of a stall I was forced to shower in every day back in the slammer—with the guards keeping a look out.
Although, I didn’t exactly mind Banks watching. Seeing the hunger in his eyes made me feel human. The feeling of being desired was a foreign concept for the first twenty-two years of my life, so I craved it. It became a drug and Banks fed my addiction regularly. Making little comments. His hands taking liberties when no one was looking. Pressing me down for random searches, making sure there wasn’t a weapon hidden between my legs, or contraband tucked inside my rear. Doing a very thorough check and making me jizz in my fucking pants like a randy kid.
He kept at it, becoming more persistent over the years, and then one day it happened. He got me so fucking worked up, I pinned him down and fucked him, giving him what he wanted. What he’d been begging for. And after that, our fucked-up affair began. Two lost souls trying to fuck their demons away. We bothknew it was never gonna be more than sex, but damn was the sex hot. But today, the only heat I felt was having Hunter’s eyes boring into mine and seeing the desire burning in their depths.
“Time to strip, pet.” My order comes out a rasp as the tightening stirs in my gut. “The smell of your dried cum is filling my bathroom.”
His nostrils flare as his fists clench by his sides. Looks like pretty boy isn’t too happy to be reminded of what transpired earlier. He’s still trying to bury himself under that denial.
He practically snarls then turns his back to me, beginning to strip down, going extra slow to counteract the pain in his body. It’s good to see his iron will is back. I’d hate to think I’d already broken him. What fun would there be in that? But as his body comes into view, I think strangling the life out of him may be the right choice—before temptation takes me under.
The man has been carved right out of a fitness magazine. His shoulders wide and sculpted. A perfect v-line leading right down to the most firm, plump ass I’ve ever seen. Fuck. My dick pulses between my legs. I bite down on my tongue to keep from demanding he turn and let me check out his front. I don’t want him to think for a second that he’s gotten to me.
It’s time for a fucking distraction. I hop onto the counter, pulling out his phone as he steps under the water. The number of texts he’s been getting is absurd. It’s a full-time job keeping up with all of them. Everyone’s been checking in to make sure he’s doing okay. All of them seeming truly concerned. They all care about the bastard. I type out the blanket response and move to the next one. I don’t want anyone showing up on his doorstep just yet.
Jessie:Hey, babe! I miss you. Hope you feel better soon. If you need a nurse, I’m happy to come take care of you.
My gut twists uncomfortably. The fuck am I feeling jealous about? That’s definitely not an emotion the asshole deserves.But when I open my mouth, I can hear it in my voice. “Jessie says she misses you and wants to come take care of you. How should I respond? Should I tell your girlfriend she shouldn’t waste her time since your dick was already rubbed off today?”
“Fuck you,” he snaps. “Why don’t you tell her that some fucking sick pervert kidnapped me and wants to use me as his personal sex slave.”
I’m off the counter and stalking forward, impressed when he stays locked in place and doesn’t retreat in fear.
“If you’re my sex slave”—I get right in his face, feeling the water soaking my clothes—“you better make sure you wash every inch.” I reach out, grabbing his firm ass and give it a tight squeeze. “This ass better be squeaky clean so I can split it wide open and fuck you ‘til you pass out.”
His eyes flash with heat and my hand decides to stroke the fire hotter, rubbing over his wet puckered ring, the soapy bubbles making my fingers glide right over the spot. “For someone so hell-bent on identifying as a straight man, your dick sure does get fucking hard for me.”
I look down at the heavy rod pressing hard against my thigh and nearly lose my balance. Damn, his cock is impressive. Long and thick, with a nice rounded cap. And it’s pointing up at me. Taunting me for a taste. Fuck.
“Looks like my little pet is begging to be played with.” I wrap my hand around his cock and give it a firm tug. When his body trembles, my knees grow fucking weak. He’s so fucking hungry for it, he’s not even fighting me off. I want him to shove me away, punch me in the face, make me fucking remember how much I despise him, but he’s not. His body has grown slack against me, his breathing heavy, eyes staring at me with a plea for more. Fuck.
“Open up for me.” My fingers press at his back door, trying to loosen its clench. When it lets me in, I fight back the groan.A guttural sigh comes from his chest as I push inside, and some of the longstanding pressure that’s weighed me down for years loosens. His cock thrusts forward in my hand and I tighten my grip. “Nuh uh. You have to learn patience, pet.”
His hand comes up and I’m suddenly locked in his hold. The air being restricted in my lungs as he squeezes my neck. I’ve been caught off guard, but I have his dick in my hold and can squeeze him just as hard. “Why did you bring me here?” he grits through his teeth, looking crazed and disheveled. He’s drowning in his confusion. A battle between his hatred toward me and his hunger. By the way his body is shaking, I think his body’s need is winning out.
“Because I want you to pay,” I state, stroking up and down, gliding over his slick skin. “I want you to pay for all the fucking times you tore me to shreds.” I push into his ass, stretching him further in search of the spot I’m looking for. “I want you to know what it’s like to suffer. To spend your nights reliving the nightmares. To wake up in tears. To constantly live in fear.” He lets out a gasp as I find his prostate and begin rubbing it with the perfect amount of pressure. “I want you to lose everything you’ve worked for. And then…” I stroke his cock faster, feeling his grip slipping, feeling his ass constricting around my finger, his cock swelling to the point of breaking. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to torture you slowly and watch as the villain in my life’s story takes his dying breath.”
His hand tightens around my neck as the orgasm starts to take control, his body jerking in a wild convulsion. His roar ringing loud and bouncing off the shower walls. He comes so hard it nearly takes him down, and I fight not to go down with him. I’ve never been so on edge. My dick throbbing in pain. But I’m not giving in. There’s no fucking way I’d ever give him the satisfaction.
I release his body and tug his hand away from my throat. “There’s a change of clothes for you on the counter. Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen.”
CHAPTER 9
Hunter
“Look who decided to show for dinner.” His smooth voice rumbles down my spine nearly tripping me up as I enter the kitchen. “You take your time trying to get pretty for me, or were you coming to the realization that there’s no way out of this place except past yours truly.” He smirks.
I probably should’ve tried to make an escape; that would’ve been the wise thing to do, but instead, I was having a breakdown. Twisted up in my mass of confusion. The pressure burning at the backs of my eyes. Hearing the rawness in his voice, seeing the pain through his eyes, what he endured at the end of my hands…it’s shredding me whole. He should kill me now. I would if I were him. I don’t deserve to live after what I did.
“Looks like you could use this.” He pushes the glass of brown liquor in front of me. I reach for it and toss it back. I could use a whole fucking bottle at this point.
“What’s the matter, pet? You feeling guilty over what just happened, over the fact that you liked it so much? Or are you sad your life is near its end?”