I capture her lips in a searing kiss. One that leaves both of us breathless and longing for more.
“Then I’m thinking you better take care of this man so you can take care of me after,” she says huskily, adding in a flirtatious wink which renders my heart skipping a damn beat.
CHAPTER 39
Rico
The man groggily wakes. When he goes to move his arms, panic enters his bloodstream. He wrestles against the restraints but they only tighten. Any hopes for escaping dwindles.
“Where am I? Why am I here?” His voice shakes as his lips tremble. Perspiration builds at the crown of his forehead. His complexion a ghastly white.
I emerge from the shadows and sit on the chair before him. Coolly I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “You’re here because you thought you could touch what’s mine and live.”
The pathetic excuse for a man squirms once more in the chair. He must be incredibly stupid to believe he’ll be able to wrangle himself free of the ropes. There are only certain things I know to the point of perfection.
Hyper-fixations.
Ropes being one.
Imogen Murphy being two.
It’s only recently I’ve discovered the pleasure ropes can bring. That will not be happening for him.
He attempts to plead with me. “Listen, I didn’t know she was with you. This is all a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding,” I echo.
A glimmer of hope flashes in his eyes. “Yes! If she would have told me she was with you I wouldn’t have touched her.”
I stare at him intensely. That hope of his deflates like a balloon. “I still have a problem with that,” I tell him. He swallows thickly. “Because did or did she not tell you to get lost?”
“Twice, actually,” Imogen rings in with a bite in her tone.
He laughs nervously. His eyes skit over to her. Not fucking happening. I’m out of my chair before I can even think. I pinch his jaw and force him to look at me. “You don’t fucking look at her. And if you even glance in her vicinity one more time I will have you blind.”
Fear engulfs him. A predator would be able to smell it off him from miles away. I’ve come to realize something about myself. I enjoy gaining the reaction of fear when it comes to defending la mia gazzella.
“Okay, man. I got it. I swear!” He blubbers. Snot begins to leak from his nose. Harshly I release the hold of his chin before it grossly reaches my hand.
Since this is an impromptu torture session I don’t have all of my arsenal. But I can improvise.
I step away from him. His pleadings continue to sing. They fall on deaf ears. No amount of pleading or bargaining will have him walking out of this alive.
My eyes give a perusal of Imogen when I approach her. I eye the stiletto heels. Pointy. Sharp. With enough force they could prove to be useful.
“I need your heels,” I tell her.
She glances down at said heels and then the dirty warehouse floor we’re standing in. Not wanting her bare feet to touch the ground I bend down and begin untying my premium leather dress shoes.
I try not to look at my socks because if I do I’ll then become aware I’m wearing them. And once I become aware it’ll grate at me until I take them off.
Bending down on one knee I prop her foot on my thigh and unbuckle the heel. Before her foot hits the ground I slip it inside my dress shoe. It swallows her foot but it’s better than wearing nothing at all.
I do the same with her other foot. When I’m done I trail my hand up her leg and rest it on her inner thigh, close to her center.
Her breath hitches. My cock twitches.
I forget all about her assailant until I hear him screaming for help.
