Page 17 of Beg for You

If Cassy wanted a walk on the wild side, I was the man to give it to her. I’d give her what none of those uptight suit-wearing assholes ever had. I’d leave her begging for more.

And when I was done, I’d make sure she and her father knew exactly who had been fucking with her—and why.

My stool creaked as I leaned closer, dragging in a lungful of her scent. She smelled delicate, like rose petals. My dick pulsed harder. “You talk tough, Princess, but do you have any idea what you’re asking for?”

She shivered, the pulse at the side of her neck fluttering faster under her skin. “Why…why don’t you show me?”

Fuck.

That little stumbled stutter, or whatever the fuck it was, spoke volumes. She was hot, but she was scared. The twisted, sick asshole inside me got off on it. On the power that made me feel, when her family had made me feel so damn powerless for so long.

I let my cock press against her tight ass and finished cleaning her skin nice and slow. She shivered again. I hadn’t answered her, and I wasn’t going to, not yet, letting her wonder what was coming next, like the sadistic fuck I was around her.

I looked down at the rosebud I’d tattooed on the flawless skin of her right shoulder. Delicate, beautiful…and closed up tight.

Not for long, though. By the time I was finished with her, there’d be nothing she could hide from me. “You wanna see what I did?”

She nodded.

I got up and wheeled the larger mirror I had in front of her. I could feel her eyes on me the whole time. Cassandra was confused, off balance. Turned the fuck on. I liked her that way.

I took my stool behind her again and held up a smaller mirror so she could see. I watched as her lips parted, her little pink tongue darting out and sliding along the lower one.

Yeah, I felt that, like she’d just lapped at the head of my cock.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly.

I put the small mirror down, quickly applied some ointment, covered her new ink, and then met her eyes in the larger one in front of us. “Sit up straight for me.”

She blinked, her eyes almost fucking guileless. But when they met mine, the confusion vanished.

That’s right, Princess. I want to see your tits.

She did as I asked, breathing harder. I could tell by the way her shoulders rose and fell. I wanted to see the way those gorgeous tits swayed with each one of those nervous, excited breaths. Wanted to see if those sweet, rosy nipples were even tighter now.

The back of the seat she was straddling was adjustable, so I reached around her, groaning low when her warm bare skin made contact with my arms, and unlatched the back, lifting the head and body rest free and removing them completely, putting them on the floor.

Cassy sucked in a breath when she saw herself in the mirror in front of us. Silky, pale skin fucking glowing, flushed pink. Nipples like I knew they’d be, tight as fuck, darker.

She stared at herself and I willed her to look up, to look at me. I didn’t want her walking out of there later, kidding herself about what had happened, convincing herself that she’d lost her head, that it could have been anyone touching her tonight. Because we both knew that was bullshit.

She could have gone anywhere, picked up any asshole, but she chose to come here to me.

I wanted to see it in her eyes.

I refused to think too deeply why that mattered so much and shut that shit down.

Her waist was tiny, and I slid my hands around it, getting off on her sharp inhale when my skin made contact with hers.

Fuck yes. Her eyes shot up.

There they were. I had them.

For a split second I thought I saw panic, but then it shifted. It twisted and blended with so many other emotions I couldn’t look away. Not that I wanted to. Excitement, fear, heat—and a longing that if I thought too much about could make me second-guess myself.

There was so much going on behind her blue eyes, so much I would never know—so much I didn’t want to know.

Fuck that. That wasn’t what this was about. Cassy wanted to get off, and I wanted to make her father pay for the way he crushed my family.