Page 37 of Under His Control

He puts his hands on my shoulders and sweeps them along my arms. I let out a soft gasp. He must have predicted I would pull away because he grabs my arms.

“Stay still.”

Jacob moves his slightly rough palms along the undersides of my arms next. This is ridiculous! We’re in a house filled with “contraband!”

But protesting is disobedience, and Jacob doesn’t care about facts. He wants to drive home the point that he has total control over me for the next two weeks.

I tremble when he glides his hands down the sides of my breasts and along my waist. His touch is a lingering, almost worshipful caress. No way this happens in an actual strip search at prison.

Gloves would definitely be worn too, and Jacob isn’t wearing any. His warmth seeps into my skin as he settles his hands on my hips. He tightens his grip, his fingers pressing into my flesh.

My face heats. My nipples harden… from exposure, of course. And the room is sort of cold. It’s not at all because I enjoy Jacob’s touch. That would be messed up.

“Turn around.”

His voice is lower and rougher. I don’t dare look up as I silently obey. He sweeps his hands down my back, and I startle when he reaches around to run his fingers under my breasts.

My heart thuds as Jacob moves on, sliding his hands down my waist and hips again.

“Put your arms down and widen your legs.”

I lower my arms to my sides then hesitate over the second part of his order. That will give him easy access to what’s between them. I give in, nervously adjusting my stance.

His breath tickles my shoulder blade and I shiver when his fingers graze the undersides of my butt.

Intake process? I don’t think so. This is an excuse to feel me up.

And I’m letting him do it.

Jacob slips his hand up the side of my knee and along the inside of my thigh. His hand is approaching a part of me he absolutely shouldn’t touch. I don’t know whether it’s anticipation or dread making my heart beat faster and my breathing heavier.

Just when it feels like he’s about to make contact, he pulls his hand away. I let out a shaky breath, only for the tension to return when he explores the inside of my other leg.

Up, up, up it goes. My body grows warmer and tauter. Waiting. Hoping.

No hoping!

Praying it doesn’t happen!

It seems like he’ll do it this time. He’s almost there… his hand much higher… so close…

So close, I hold my breath.

He stops. The heat from his hand radiates onto my sensitive area. One twitch from either of us and the side of his finger would graze my pussy.

Conflicted and ashamed, I’m shaking. I want Jacob to stop touching me and I want him to move his hand up. I’m not sure which of the two I want more either.

When he does the former, I’m relieved. Only that, nothing else. I refuse to acknowledge any other emotion.

Jacob steps closer, his body heat against my back, but he doesn’t touch me.

“You said I can’t fuck you, but would you stop me if I tried to do it?” His voice is low and silken. “Or would you let Daddy slide his cock inside you for thirty thousand dollars?”

“No, I won’t let you,” I say immediately and with firm conviction. “No sum of money will make me allow it!”

Without warning, he embraces me from behind, his hand on my stomach holding me against him, his lips close to my ear.

“You’re such a dirty fucking liar, you’ll even lie to yourself. Your pussy is the only honest part of you and it’s wet for me.”