Little Finch.
My cock stiffens angrily as I ache to reach out and fondle the pert little mounds under the fabric.
Jesus Christ.
“I wish I had a mother like yours. Or like you,” Larissa says. “Mine is just the woman who happened to give birth to me. Home isn’t that great, maybe that’s why I’m starting to feel like this is a little vacation. I needed a getaway.” She laughs, and her snicker drives a hot poker straight into my balls.
I catch Maria’s frown, then the flick of her eyes, sensing my presence.
“It will be what you make of it,” Maria offers with a soft touch on her cheek, then turns to the counter and returns to chopping cucumber for the glass water pitcher on the island.
“I guess. I should be fighting and screaming and demanding to leave, but,” Larissa draws a shoulder to her ear, and the ache in my balls nearly doubles me over. “I’m more relaxed here, even being kidnapped, than I’ve been at home in years.”
The resignation in her voice makes something twist behind my ribs like a knife slipping between bone. I want to find her mother, Denise Willis, and break every bone in her body. Slowly. Make her scream for what she's done to this girl.
She’snot mine, I remind myself.No attachments. No exceptions.
"Maria, thank you for tending to our guest." I nod as things happen in my chest that both confuse and frighten me.
Chapter 3
Sebastian
The expansive kitchen feels smaller and warmer than usual.
A twitch is developing above my left eyebrow.
I smell her from here. The scent of rose water and linen from the products I had delivered to her en-suite this morning before she woke.
Those are not the only scents prickling the hair on the back of my neck. My senses are acute, and yes, I smell her sweet little virgin pussy.
How do I know she’s a virgin? Hoover made sure. I’m sick, but he’s sicker.
He had a private doctor examine her every month. After all, if he’s selling her innocence, he needs to be sure he delivers what he’s selling.
My throat tightens, my knuckles snapping as I ball my fingers into fists, thinking of her in the shower, the warm water touching her everywhere.
Saliva pools in my mouth. I hate that fucking water.
I take my seat at the head of the table, close enough to reach her if I wanted. Close enough to see the pulse hammering in her throat.
"Good morning, Larissa."
"Hi." She inspects her teeth with her tongue, regarding me, then yawns, moving her eyes to a spot on the wall in a deliberate attempt to showcase passive disrespect.
"Look at me when I'm speaking to you."
Her gaze snaps to mine, and her tongue pokes out.
My dick jumps so high it challenges the security of my belt buckle.
She sets her hands on the table, flexing and stretching out delicate fingers as though she’s priming herself for a fight.
I could circle both her wrists with one hand. Holding them above her head as I pin her to the mattress, her back arched, nipples pink and tight and—
I grip the arm of my chair.
"Better.” Pause. "When I enter a room, you acknowledge me. Properly. Not 'Hi.' Try again."
