“Are you going to make me prove a point, princess?” I ask, getting back on track. I’ll get what I want. Very soon.
She licks her lips, her brows pulling together in confusion. “A point?”
Cute.“Yeah, that you belong to me.” No matter who she’s brought home—Raylee Adams belongs to me. She always has. From the moment she stepped into my father’s house, I claimed her.
She swallows nervously, her hands coming up and gripping my forearms as I keep her pinned to the wall, biding my time. I need to get her worked up. As if she’s not already. I saw the way she looked at me across the living room. Raylee can be a bitch, but she’s also very readable. I know every little sound that mouth can make. I know every move her body has. And I know just how to make her beg for me.
“Maybe that’s what you want?” I question, breaking her silence. She’s scared and unsure how to react to me right now. Good. I like to keep her guessing. “To prove to everyone here that you’re mine.”
I barely hear her argument. “No.” The single word makes her body tremble against mine.
“I think so.” I reach up and run my hand through her soft curls. She wore it how I like it. All down and in big waves. It tangles easier when she’s got product in it. I love to mess it up. “I already have an idea on how to do that.”
“Id-idea?” She shifts from foot to foot.
“I’ll put a collar around your neck.” My eyes drop to it and see her swallow nervously. “And I’ll lead you around this party by a leash.” She whimpers, closing her eyes, and I watch her dark lashes fan her cheeks. “Naked, on all fours with your face covered in my spit and my cum dripping out of your cunt.”
Her eyes spring open and are wide, lips parting on a small gasp, looking shocked by what I just said. Nothing should surprise her, and by the way she presses her hips into mine, I know she’s visualizing it right now.
I let go of her hair and run my knuckles down over her neck, feeling her pulse racing. My girl is all worked up now. Just as I expected, it didn’t take much. “Is that what you want, princess? Want me to humiliate you in front of everyone?”
She doesn’t answer. Her wide eyes just search mine while her breathing picks up. She knows I’m not joking. I never do when it comes to Raylee.
“See…” I drop my hands to the hem of her short dress. Slowly, I pull it up, letting my knuckles graze her skin in the process. Once it gets to her waist, I let go and push her thong to the side, running my fingers over her pussy. She’s wet and makes no attempt to stop me. “I think you want me to degrade you and show them what a filthy slut you are.” I had Finn shorten that video before posting it online. It was only ten seconds long of her on her knees in the formal dining room sucking my dick. These men and women here have no idea just how dirty she likes it.
“Colt,” she whimpers my name, her heavy eyes falling shut once again.
I push a finger into her. “You’ll be unsatisfied, of course. Because I want them to watch you beg me to get you off. I want them to watch you cry, let them see how desperate you get…” I pause, slipping a second finger into her. I feel her knees start to buckle, and I wrap my free hand around her throat to help hold her up against the wall. “When your body is desperate for a release.”
“Please,” she begs, her voice trembling like her body while her hips start to gently rock against my hand.
“Please what, princess?” My thumb runs over her clit just slightly, knowing she wants me to play with it.
Her hands come up to my jeans, and she fumbles with the zipper. I smile in victory, removing my hand from between her legs, forcing a growl of frustration from her lips. “Please fuck me—”
She’s interrupted by the door opening beside us. Alex pops his head in and winks at me. “Ready.”
I nod. “We’ll be right there.”
Closing the door behind him, he leaves us alone once again.
She sags against the wall, now panting and all worked up. Ready to be fucked.
Reaching out, I pick up her drink that I placed on the dresser to my left and hold it up to her lips. “Drink up,” I order, pressing it to her lips.
She tilts her head back, and I force her to drink all of it. Some runs down the sides of her mouth, but her throat works while she swallows. Once I hear it’s gone, I toss the cup to the side, and she’s gasping for air.
I push some blond strands back from her perfectly dolled-up face. Leaning in, I lick up her neck, tasting the pineapple juice and Malibu Rum that missed her mouth. “Remember what you just begged for, princess. Because you’re going to get it.” Then I yank her dress back down and grab her arm, pulling her out of the room.
RAYLEE
MY EYES DARTaround the hallways and rooms while I allow Colt to drag me through the party. My heart hammers in my chest, and I can’t catch my breath. My underwear is soaked, and I can feel a breeze on my ass where he didn’t pull my dress down far enough.
He wants to humiliate me in front of all these people. I like the fact that I am not responsible. It turns me on to know that I’m just an object, and I have no obligation to try to keep up appearances. I’m no longer Raylee Lexington Adams. I’m just his—Colt’s slut. I enjoy the place he drags me to when I cry and beg him for any kind of pleasure.
If anyone knew how I really felt, they’d probably put me in therapy. Or a padded room in a straitjacket.
I always had this desire to be owned. Some people would call that lack of self-respect. I say fuck them. It’s not a crime to be a sexual person. Smokers crave a cigarette. Druggies crave their next fix. And me? I crave dick. It just so happens to be my stepbrother’s. No one else has ever treated me like he does. Or gotten me off like him. I swear, the guy could train my body to come at the sound of a single word if he wanted to. But that wouldn’t be any fun for him. He’d never want it to be that easy for me. It’s frustrating, to say the least.
