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5
GRAYSON
I untethered her from the o-ring and let my beautiful victim crumple to the floor. Thankfully, I didn’t need to clear much out of the room before leaving her unsupervised. The stacked chairs were plastic. The couple of suitcases, I toted those out the door and returned; the rest could stay. This was the space I’d used when I’d played a similar game with Madison, and I’d never really come down here again. Big houses made for a lot of unused space.
Not that Madison and I had played this exact game. Madison had a safeword. Madison hadn’t been afraid—or not afraid enough to satisfy me. She’d been pretty, but not obnoxiously beautiful, like Emme, who I had an irrational need to ruin. No, my new captive would be much harder to let go, since my every instinct was screaming at me to keep her, debase her, sully her…
Only one week.
I’d allow myself seven days and then I’d let her go. After a week her friend would be looking for her and would call the police. Prison sentences weren’t my kink. I couldn’t let myself get attached to the idea of keeping her. I wasn’t even sure my shoddy morals would let me do that.
Although, the way she looked right now gave me pause.
Emme lay on the floor, partly on her back, with her legs sprawled apart enough to give me a tempting view. Glassy-eyed, she stared up at me.
“Open your mouth.”
When she didn’t immediately comply, I nudged her cheek with my boot.
“Now. I’d hate to bruise this lovely face.”
Tentatively, she opened her mouth, making her look like a badly used, hyper-realistic blowup doll.
I spat, letting the line of it trail down. She sobbed, but kept her mouth open as it hit her tongue.
“Such a good girl for me. Now, stay still.” I unzipped my jeans and freed my erection, aching even though I’d fucked her on the way here. It had been a while. She squirmed, and I propped my booted foot on her chest. “Do you like breathing, Emme? Move again and my heel will be on your throat, instead. Do you know how fragile a throat can be?”
Threats were easy. Threats were nice.
She swallowed hard, and fresh tears bled from her red-rimmed blue eyes to trickle down her temples. I stroked myself, watching as her gaze fastened onto my cock.
“Yeah, that’s my good little toy. You want some come in that pouty mouth, don’t you?”
She whimpered again. The fresh welts all over her perfect body were a balm to my soul. My balls ached with the need for release, and my hips stuttered along with the motion of my hand. I was too turned on, but tried to play at nonchalance. Better she did not know how hard I was struggling not to damage her. Better she did not know my conscience fell eerily silent every time I met her miserable, tear-streaked gaze.
Fuck, it didn’t take long, looking at her exhausted and so fragile on the concrete. She smelled of sweat, fear, and come. The first jet of my release splattered across her cheek. The next hit her mouth, and I kept stroking on and on until my balls were empty, until her mouth was brimming and spilling over.
“Don’t move,” I said quietly. “Don’t spit. Don’t swallow. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I tucked myself back into my jeans.
I left the room and closed the door behind me, pausing just on the other side to draw a deep breath and lean into the wall. My head felt like it had been deprived of oxygen since I’d left the café. Heart pounding, I forced down the panic that tried to overtake me.
I’d fucking done it. I’d kidnapped a human being—a complete stranger.
Despite the fact that I’d told her the truth, I knew she still doubted what I’d said. She was clinging to the hope that I was the guy she’d arranged to meet.
Where had the man ended up? I had a hard time believing he’d gotten a glimpse of Emme through the window and decided to pass on the opportunity to have her at his mercy. If he’d had car trouble or something, though, he’d try to contact Emme to apologize and explain. If Emme didn’t answer, he might try to leave a message through Charity.
Charity would call the police.
It all depended on why he hadn’t shown. I could check her phone. Taking it out of the bag blocking the signal meant it would ping off the phone towers.
Later.
I drew another deep breath. Adrenaline was still pumping through me, making me feel invincible, but I had to keep my head on straight.
I went to the bathroom and washed my hands, fixing my hair and rinsing my face while I was there so I looked slightly less unhinged—there was no way to wash my eyes, though, and the gleam in them was diabolical.
Knowing she was downstairs was giving me too many wicked thoughts—I couldn’t do them all, at least not tonight. She needed to rest, and to wallow in tonight’s stupid choices. She needed time to wonder and be afraid.
