“In here.” I flop on the bed with Jane Eyre, covering my face.
My bedroom door creaks open and I peer over the book to a beast of a man standing in my doorway. My core clenches as it always does when I take in the sight of him. He strolls in, completely unaware of the effect he has on me. At least I think he’s unaware, although Belle can probably sense my arousal from downstairs.
He sits on the bed, dipping the mattress at my side, and I roll into him. “I got you something.”
My heart races. Heat seeps from the pores of my cheeks. The last time we were like this in this exact scenario, he’d bought me a vibrator. He lifts a carrier bag and I clench my thighs together. My nipples pebble and chafe under the lace of my bra.
The only sound is the rustling of the bag as his hand disappears inside and the deafening sound of my heart pounding between my ears.
“Is it a new toy?” I croak out. Trying to make light of the crackling tension in the room.
His shoulders rock with a chuckle.
“A dildo?” I laugh along with him. Anything better than the awkward silence. “Nipple clamps? I know you’re a sadistic fuck.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you. It’s just some books.” He pulls out a pile of notebooks, holding them in one large hand. “There was a sale on.”
My mouth parts. Speechless that he would be so thoughtful.
He continues to pull items from the bag. A pack of pens, highlighters, sticky notes. “I thought you could start writing your stories again. Or just have them on your desk as ornaments. It looks a little bare.”
Stationary is my porn. That and Kane’s tattoos.
I glance over at the wooden desk under the window, looking rather sparse. “Thank you so much.” I take them from him and set them on the surface of the old pine that Kane stained to match my bookcase. “Since I arrived here, I’ve had a zillion stories buzzing around my head.”
Every day, he surprises me more and more. It’s like having a best friend to talk to who’s also a guardian who looks out for my safety. I can have fun with him, but at the same time, he keeps me in check. Nobody has been able to balance that line with me.
All the families I lived with over the years never understood me and just wanted to control me into their way of thinking and do what they wanted me to do. My different foster parents were always either too strict or not strict enough, but Kane is both strict and lenient, understanding yet firm. I know where I stand with him and I like having him care for me. It’s controlling but caring at the same time and I’ve never had that before.
* * *
“You can sit nextto me. I won’t bite.” I give him my best smile from the sofa where I sit.
He lifts his head, the cherry glowing in the dark room. Smoke curls from his lips, distorting his fiery eyes, like he’s just stepped out of hell. “No, but I might.”
My thighs clamp together. I pat the cushion on the sofa. “You can’t see the TV from over there.”
“Who says I’m watching the TV?” His eyes burn darker, eye fucking me in my bed shorts and a vest that’s a little snug and doesn’t match. He lifts his hoodie over his head, exposing the mouth of the skull on his stomach as his t-shirt rides up.
The hoodie lands on my head. “Cover yourself.”
I pull it into my lap. “I’m not cold.” The heat from the burning logs paired with his heated gaze is stoking the fire inside me.
“Cover yourself, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.” His chest rises and falls with slow, heavy breaths. His grey t-shirt tightening and loosening over his broad muscles.
I can’t deny the pulsing in my core each time he looks at me. A part of me wants to be a brat and defy him just to see what he’ll do. I fold the hoodie up and place it on the arm of the sofa. “I think I’ll stay like this.” My body relaxes into the cushions and I unclip my bra, slide the straps down each arm, then pull it from under my vest before tossing it over the back of the sofa. “That’s better.”
“Don’t tempt me, Vi.” A growl rumbles from the chair.
“I’m just getting comfy.”
“You’re just making this harder for the both of us. That wetness between your thighs can’t be comfy.”
“Maybe you should take care of that, then.” I bat my lashes, biting my lip. “Daddy.”
“Oh, I’ll take care of it.” He leans over, stubs his joint out in the ashtray on the coffee table. His gaze turns to fire and brimstone, a torturous penetrating stare. “Last chance, trouble. Last chance to do as you’re told.”
My heart hammers against my chest as heat rages between my thighs. I’m speechless, motionless as he stalks towards me. His rough hands scoop me up and he throws me over his shoulder.
