Page 68 of My Favorite Kidnapper

“Are you?” I asked, amused. “Need to cool down?”

She stood, shaking her head, heading upstairs.

I watched her, my amusement growing, knowing the explosion that was going to happen in about five minutes. Maybe less.

I sat back, sipping my wine, and waited.

* * *

She didn’t disappoint. She reappeared in front of me, still in her overalls and pigtails. She slammed her hands on her hips, the fire an inferno now as she glared. I assumed she thought she looked tough and furious.

Instead, she looked delectable and sexy. It made me want to grab those straps and haul her to my lap and fuck her. But I wanted to hear her scold me. I’d do nothing to change what she was angry about, but I did like to hear her tell me off.

“Why are all my things in your room?”

“I had Gia move them,” I replied calmly.

“I didn’t agree. You didn’t even ask!”

I rubbed my lip as I regarded her. I was certain she was mentally sharpening that stinger of hers, ready to have a go at me. Her color was high, and she was gearing up for a good argument. One she would lose, but she wanted it.

I stood, towering over her. “It’s my home. I told you I wanted you in my bed, and that is where you will be from now on.”

“And I have no choice?”

“Sixty days.” I reminded her.

“Sixty cakes,” she snapped. “Is your memory that bad, old man? I said sixty cakes, not sixty nights of…fornication.”

My lips quirked, and I stepped closer so we were almost chest to chest. Her pupils dilated, and her breathing picked up. “It won’t only be nights, Little Bee. And I warned you about calling me ‘old man.’”

“You’re acting like a cantankerous one.”

“And you’re acting like a brat.” I grabbed her straps and dragged her close, pulling her up to my face. The stress of the day had ramped me up, and suddenly, being inside her was what I needed. And I needed it, her, now.

“You need a good fucking to remind you who is in charge here.”

She gasped as I covered her mouth with mine. I kissed her until she was a shaking mass in my arms. “You are staying with me in my bed,” I told her, unsnapping the clasp on her overalls and yanking them down.

“No.”

I tore her T-shirt over her head. “You will be with me every night.”

“You can’t force me.”

I kicked off my pants and tugged my shirt over my head. “I beg to differ, little prisoner.”

“You motherplucker,” she hissed, standing so her shoulders were back, her breasts jutting out, the nipples stiff and pink against her pale skin.

“That’s fuck-her,” I murmured. “And I plan to.” I dragged her into my arms and carried us into the pool. She flinched as the cool water surrounded us, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. But she didn’t protest, and I knew she wasn’t scared. I sat her on the steps and kept kissing her until she was undulating under me, and I felt her heat surrounding my cock, even through the fabric that separated us. I removed the offending material, tearing it from our bodies so we were flush.

“You wanted to know if last night was making love or frolicking, Little Bee? Well, hold on because I am about to frolic you so hard, you’ll know the difference.”

“Bring it on, old man,” she whispered in my ear, biting down on the lobe.

I reared back and sank in deep. She was still tight, surrounding me with her heat and honey. She cried out, gripping my back, and I began to thrust in long, powerful strokes. I cupped her perfect ass in my hands, holding her at the right angle so I hit her exactly where I knew she needed to be stroked. She moved with me, whimpering and moaning as I moved. I grunted and growled as the pleasure rolled through my body.

“Feel that, Little Bee? Feel my cock filling you?”