Page 17 of His Keepsake

Thinking about her flailing legs as I’d fucked her with only her lower half hanging out of the trunk made my cock twitch.

Would she still have a mouthful of come when I went back to check on her, or would I have to punish her again?

God, I felt like a rutting goat. I wanted more—needed more.

As I flicked off the light, the gleaming porcelain of the toilet caught my eye. Fuck. I’d forgotten she needed to pee.

Quietly, I moved down the stairs to check on her. My little captive was in the same spot I’d left her, staring at the ceiling, mouth open and still full. More come had dribbled from the corner of her mouth and had left a trail to her earlobe, but she had obeyed me.

Scared of me, despite her bravado, her guesses about who I was. Good.

I breathed long and low, savoring the sight.

“Good girl.”

She startled but managed not to spill much more.

“Swallow.”

Her throat moved as if she would gag, but she did as she was told, coughing a bit when it was all gone. It had to have been almost cold.

Amused, I hauled her to her feet. She was a mess, with come glistening on her face and down her neck, on her thighs, and in her thoroughly mussed hair. Dried tears streaked her face too. Such a beautiful wreck of a girl.

Had she ever taken it in the ass? A kinky girl like this must have.

Time for that later.

I walked her upstairs to the bathroom I’d so recently vacated, then guided her to sit, waiting as she peed. Naked girl, bound hands in her lap, downcast eyes. Everything about this was perfect. I wiped her, which made her twitch and balk, but I didn’t give her a choice.

Back downstairs, I helped her to the floor, threw her the clean and itchy blanket that had been washed and waiting for the next time I had Madison over. She still left me messages on occasion, begging for more, but I’d ignored them for what—eight months? It hadn’t been right between us. It had been a game.

“Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

“What does that mean?” Emme asked. Her eye makeup and lipstick were hopelessly smeared.

“Try not to worry. I probably won’t hurt you that much.” I shut off the light and closed the door, padlocking it behind me. I waited, listening to her moans of distress in the absolute darkness, and basking in the sniffling sounds of her tears.

My bed was warm and soft, and I imagined her down there, trying to get comfortable on the concrete with her scratchy blanket, both terrified I really was a stranger yet hoping I was.

I knew the feeling. I’d heard what she’d said to Charity. In all the years I’d been into kink, I’d never heard anyone express my own sentiments so closely. Yes, I should have walked away, but what man could have resisted taking her when that was exactly what she’d been dreaming about?

Although I was tired, excitement made it hard to drift off. Every small sound was a potential escape attempt. There were no cameras in that room—I’d resisted the temptation with Madison, loving the feeling of surprise as much as my victim did. The anticipation of what I might find down there the next time I entered the space was all part of the fun.

* * *

The smell of bacon woke me, or maybe it was the clanging of pots.

The fuck?

In a bleary moment I had visions of Emme having escaped in the night, only to stick around and cook me breakfast.

I had the urge to grab a weapon, but a home invader would hardly be puttering around in my kitchen.

“Axl,” I growled as I wandered into the kitchen, smearing my hand over my face to wake myself more. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He threw me a glance over his shoulder, and although his face was expressionless, there was amusement in his eyes.

“Are you going to start telling me when I’m allowed to visit?”

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