She's taking a step back from me, another, as the horror of the realization begins to break through all the wine I made her drink. “Stay away from me.”
I deliberately walk away from her to my desk.
“I'm going to go home. I don't think I feel well.”
Open a drawer.
“I'll see you tomorrow? Rain check for the rest of the date? My treat?” She sounds desperate.
I pull out a pair of thick leather gloves. “Now, Winnie, don't cut our evening short. You said you want it rough, after all.”
33
WINNIE
“It seems our evening plans have changed.” His voice echoes through the luxury penthouse as I drunkenly race through the massive rooms to the door.
Should I try to find a weapon?
Should I look for a phone?
I drank too much wine; that’s what it is. I can’t think clearly.
Fitz is my stalker.
That can’t be right.
God, I have the worst taste in men!
I don’t hear his footsteps, don’t see him behind me as I stumble through the dimly lit penthouse.
I thought the door was just around this—
I scream as as a deep voice says, “Found you.”
I turn to run back the wayI came.
Fitz just laughs. He grabs me by the front bodice of my dress and throws me against the wall. My heart thumps in my chest.
“Did you drug me?” I try to stay still. Struggle just seems to excite him.
“I don’t want to have sex with a doll. I want you screaming and writhing in pleasure, of course.”
“You're sick.”
“No, I actually got tested recently. My insurance requires it. Come on, Creampuff. You like this. You liked it when I bent you over and fucked you like a little sex toy. Speaking of…” He laughs against my neck. “Your pussy can't help it. You’re addicted to me.” He trails a finger down my collarbone to the rise of my breasts, mashed in the bodice. “Tell me you don’t want it. I can fuck you just like you like it. Rough. I’ll even wear the mask.”
I’m in crisis because the thought of that, getting to repeat my biggest sexual fantasy I didn’t know I had, is making me salivate, making me wet, making me ache.
“Let’s see.” He pushes my dress up, the fabric pulling at me.
He fights against me as I try to keep the hem pushed down.
I whimper as he grabs my wrist, pinning it against the wall. His knee knocks my thighs apart.
“How sticky is my little Creampuff?”
I squirm as his fingers pry my pussy open, stroking me like he owns me.
