The cuffs from the night before still hung from the headboard.
“So that’s it? I’m your prisoner? You’re just going to keep me cuffed to the bed?”
King shook his head. “No, pup. You’re not my prisoner. I don’t think we need these anymore.” He gestured to the cuffs. His well-built, highly-tattooed, muscular physique gleamed under the light of the moon shining through the window. My mouth went dry, and I again had to press my thighs together to quell the building ache that was starting to overshadow my other injuries.
He may have been the devil, but his body was sculpted like a god.
I scrambled to form my question. “Then, what am I?” I whispered. My exhaustion beginning to take hold.
“I told you before.” King leaned in close stripped the towel away, letting his gaze linger on my body before covering me with the bed sheets. With one knee on the mattress, King leaned over and sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. A tingling sensation started in my belly. He released my lip with a pop. “You’re not my prisoner. You’re mine.”
Against my better judgment, I’d brought her back to my house. I fed her. I bathed her. I put her to bed, and she didn’t bother to fight me off when I climbed in beside her and held her close while she cried herself to sleep. She was here against her will and I was one fucked up motherfucker.
Because I’d never been happier.
It was the kiss that fucked everything up. I hadn’t meant to kiss her in the woods, but I couldn’t ignore the overwhelming urge to take her mouth. At first, I thought it was just a sick part of me that needed to kiss a girl who was struggling underneath me. But then, she opened her mouth to me, and all the sense I’d ever had was lost in that kiss.
Her taste, her tongue, the pull I’d felt toward her when she was first in my bed had exploded into something I couldn’t reign in. I lost myself in her for a good minute before I came to my senses. Stopping was the hardest thing I’d ever done even though the idea of taking my revenge out on her body made every part of me turn rock hard.
I wasn’t going to go after her. But the entire night I lay awake and stared at the ceiling fan. I didn’t even fucking know the girl and I was worried about her. What was she doing? Did she make it out of the woods? Then, I spent hours hoping she went in the right direction, because if she went toward Coral Pines, she wouldn’t find any sort of civilization for over ten miles.
I wrestled with the idea of going after her all day. Then, Preppy had filled me in on what she’d told him about not having a memory.
So I did something. Something that made the decision to go after her an easy one. A decision that would forever change the lives of everyone around me.
Some for the good.
Some for the bad.
Some for the dead.
I found out who Doe really was.
Although my eyes are open, there is a darkness surrounding me that is about to open the flood gates of my panic. A pair of heavily-lidded chestnut brown eyes loom over me and remind me I’m not alone, and my fear is momentarily surpressed. The look of raw desire reflected in his gaze sends a flush of wetness between my legs. The heat of his naked chest radiates against mine, and I am lost in sensations of skin against skin.
Slowly, he drags his fingers up my thigh, touching every part of my body except the one place burning for his touch, aching and pulsing with a need I’d never known. His touch is soft but nervous, like he doesn’t know where to place his hands next. I shift in an effort to send him where I crave his touch the most.
“Ssshhhh,” a deep voice whispers into my neck, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end and my stomach to flip flop with anticipation. “Is this where you need me to touch you?”
His hand comes to rest on my breast, rolling my already sensitive nipple between his fingers. I arch my back and groan from deep within my throat.
“No,” I say. It comes out as barely a breath. I need him lower. Much lower.
He releases my nipple and a soft hand cups my breast and squeezes lightly. “Is this where you need me?” the voice asks, teasing me with his words as well as his touch.
“No,” I moan again, the agonizing torture of waiting for him to make contact is too much to bear.
I kick out my legs impatiently.
“Ssssshhhhh. Behave, and you’ll get what you want,” the voice whispers, trailing his tongue down the side of my neck at the same time working his hands between my legs. Slowly, two fingers brush over my clit, lingering there without any movement. An almost touch.
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