“I knew it.” His fingers rub me again.
I moan against his shoulder as he thrusts three fingers into me. “You’re getting off on this, me treating you like you’re just a sex toy.”
“That's not…” I protest, mainly more to myself. “I mean, I’m not that much of a slut, am I? I’m the responsible sister, not the one who has sex with her stalker. I should really go. I can’t… this isn’t—” I push his hands away.
“Then go.”
He watches me like a predator as I take two steps to the side and then rush to the door. He’s on me in half a second.
“Goddamn, I love it when you run.” He catches me around the waist and kisses me. He’s blocking my way, so I turn down another corridor. He grabs me, pulling my top down.
I grip the doorframe as he sucks on my nipple, his teeth making me curse, then he releases me, starting the chase over again.
I’m out of breath in the dark hallway.
I stumble and fall.
He’s on me, large hand in my hair, slapping my ass laughing as I try to kick at him.
I half expect him to fuck me right there on the floor. But he lets me up.
It’s futile to run, but I still struggle to my feet, hand braced on the textured wallpaper. The sconces flicker as I try to dodge him.
I realize that it’s not just a random chase; he’s herding me, like Fidget did that one time I took her to a sheep-herding class, driving me deeper into the depths of the penthouse. There aren’t any windows here, only a few sconces on the wall, casting light on the dark wallpaper.
I’m at a dead end.
I can barely breathe. I’m so freaked out. “You can’t…”
“What? Cant be attracted to you? Can’t be obsessed with you every waking moment? Can’t stand outside of your house in the dark?”
He hums.
“You’re a greedy little slut. I sprayed you all over with my cum, made you lick it up. And that makes youmydirty little cum slut.” He has me pressed against the wall, then he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.
“Admit it,” he hisses as he bites my bottom lip. “You were disappointed when you thought I was just going to let you bounce on top of my dick in my study like some cliché. The thought of it bored you.”
“Maybe,” I admit as his knee pushes between my legs. “But I didn’t want this.”
“Of course you do. You want to be on your knees for me, taking my dick in every hole.”
“I made a bad decision.”
“I’m gonna help you make another one.”
Then I’m falling backward as the wall behind me gives way. I scream as I fall into a dark room, darker than the hallway. I fight against him as he half drags me forward across a soft surface. Then I feel something metallic click around my ankle.
“Shit,” I whimper, trying to crawl forward.
His hand comes down on the flat of my ass. I’m stopped when my legs don’t move; they’re stuck, locked in place. My knees are spread wide, the dress riding up as my legs splay open. The other cuff locks in place.
My eyes adjust to the dim red light. I turn to see him behind me, picking something off a shelf. He’s a shadow in the dark.
He puts the black mask on, and my body is like,Welcome home, daddy—which again, considering I’m tied up in this guy’s sex dungeon, really says certain things about me.
Sex dungeon.
Yeah, like the wholeFifty Shadescliché, with sex toys on shelves and little strappy things and a circular bed on one end.
