I finish the water and set the glass in the sink. The walk back to my room takes me past her door again. I should keep walking, but I slow down as I approach her door, unable to stop myself. And that's when I hear it.
A small, muffled sound was coming from inside her room.
I stop. I see the guards outside her door glance at me, uneasy that I’m standing there and saying nothing.
It comes again. Soft but unmistakable. A moan. My entire body goes still.
She's—
No. She can't be.
But the sound comes again, slightly louder this time, and there's no mistaking what it is. She's touching herself.
My cock, which had finally started to soften, immediately begins to harden again. And a possessive instinct, shocking as an electrical jolt to the chest, sweeps through me.
I don’t want these men hearing her moan, getting hard at the sound of her pleasure. I can’t imagine that they can’t hear her and don’t know what she’s doing. I imagine them hard because of it, thinking about what they’d do to her, going and jerking off later to the thought of her moans, the way I just did.
I almost pull my gun out and shoot all three of them. I will, if I stand here thinking about it another second.
What the fuck is wrong with me?She’s not mine. I shouldn’t care who hears her moan or who fantasizes about her. But I’m going to kill my own men on the possibility they might if this goes on a moment more.
I clear my throat. “Go switch out with the next shift,” I tell them sharply.
“Boss—” One glances at me. “Shift change isn’t for another hour.”
My hand strays toward my gun. “I saidnow.”
This is stupid and reckless. Some of my men aren’t too bright, but not all three can possibly be dumb enough not to think that I have some ulterior motive for switching guards early. Not when they can hear Liesl moaning on the other side of the door, not when they probably heard her earlier, when I was in her room.
They’re going to suspect something is going on. That I’m going to go in and fuck her. That I’m using the captive for my own pleasure, endangering the possibility of ransom, maybe even lying about her father asking for more time so that I can have more time of my own.
And right now, I don’t fucking care.
That right there should tell me that she’s dangerous enough to my control, to my good sense, that I should kill her right now.Open the door and shoot her where she’s lying, and fuck the money. Fuck her.
But not like that.
I should at the very least walk away—go back to my room and pretend I didn't hear anything.
Instead, as the guards disappear down the hall, I move closer to her door.
The sounds are clearer now. I hear small gasps and soft moans that she's trying to muffle but can't quite contain. The rustle of fabric. The creak of the bed. She's in there, touching herself.
Thinking about what? About the kiss? About me?
The thought makes my cock fully hard again, pressing insistently against my trousers. I’m aching as if I didn’t just come more than I have in recent memory. As if I didn’t just soak my fist and my abs with my release.
I press my ear closer to the door. I shouldn't. This is wrong on every level. But I can't make myself walk away. I’m throbbing now, pulsing with every soft moan from the other side. I imagine I can hear how wet she is, squelching against her fingers. I wonder if she’s dripping on the sheets, her thighs slick with it. If her legs are tight together around her hand or spread out for better access. I want to know how she touches herself, back and forth or small circles, one finger or two, if she has fingers inside herself right now, pretending they’re mine. That they’reme.
I hear her breathing—faster now, more ragged. I hear the small sounds she's making, desperate, wanting sounds that go straight to my cock.
Is she thinking about me? About the way I kissed her? About what would have happened if I hadn't stopped?
My hand goes to my zipper without conscious thought. I slide it down slowly, quietly, my eyes fixed on her door like I can see through it.
The security taking over for the guard change I demanded will be back at any moment. They could find me out here in the hallway, cock in hand, jerking off while I listen to my captive touching herself on the other side of the door.
If I thought that fucking her would make them question me, that would be a thousand times worse. They’d lose all respect for me, if they caught me out here touching myself instead of going in there and taking what I want.
