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“You want me to run?” I’m stalling while trying to sort out all these mixed feelings of fear and excitement, before we start this ‘game’ of his.
“I want you to stay out of my hair so I can work, but you’ve already interrupted me with your snooping.” He takes a small step toward me. “You ready?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to play,” I point out.
Another shrug. “Too late, kitten. You should get ready,” he warns with a grin, as he leans forward like he’s about to launch himself at me.
“Wait, wait.” My heart is already racing. Excitement trails up my spine. Where am I supposed to go? I don’t even know the layout of this place.
“Go!” he shouts, before hurling himself at me.
I bolt. I barely escape him when he reaches for me and run to the kitchen. He’s right behind me. I maneuver around the kitchen island, then back through the living room. This man is right on my ass. I spot the front door and rush to it. Just as my hand lands on the knob, his arm wraps around my waist and hauls me off the floor.
“Naughty kitty. I said no going outside.” He easily swivels me around and pushes me up over his shoulder. My head whirls from being upside down, and I realize I still haven’t fully recovered from whatever I was drugged with yesterday.
“Wait. I wasn’t ready!” I whine, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but then his hand lands hard on my ass.
“Stay still.” He carries me through the dining room as though having me dangling over his shoulder is no hinderance whatsoever.
I arch my back, watching the front door get further and further away from us as he carries me. Tears well up. I shove against his ass, his back, anywhere I can push my hands to get some leverage, but his tree trunk of an arm holds me in place. I might as well be cemented to him.
He carries me through the open room, and I expect him to take me up the stairs back to my room, but he turns down another hallway. The lighting from the main room fades, and we’re walking in darkness.
A door creaks, he brings me inside, slams the door.
Slowly, he slides me down his body until my feet touch a metal grate. My head swirls as the blood rushes back into the rest of my body.
He paws my hair from my face until I’m able to see him clearly in the dim lighting. I take a small step in retreat, and nearly fall down a set of stairs. He snatches my arm, keeping me with him.
I turn and look around. Computer equipment of every kind fills the space. The glow from the monitors is the only light source.
He nudges me forward and I shuffle down the four grated steps. As he steps beside me, he grabs my wrist and yanks me along with him to a spot beside the last table with the monitors.
It’s a large dog crate with a puffy pillow inside.
When we get to the crate, he opens the door and jerks his hand to the opening.
“I win, so we get to do anything I want. And I want to work without worrying that you’re getting into things you shouldn’t.”
I shake my head. “No. I won’t. Please. I won’t.” I try pulling back, but his fingers are digging into my arm. I’m going to be covered with his fingerprints if he doesn’t let up soon.
“Get in.” He snaps his fingers.
“No.” I keep fighting, but I’m losing.
His left eyebrow arches. “I’m losing my patience, kitten. Get inside.”
I stare into the depths of his eyes. What does he look like when he’s lost his patience? His tight jaw makes the sharpness of his cheekbones more pronounced. The muscle on the left side of his neck throbs with his deep breaths.
“I’m not a kitten,” I whisper.
His full, thick lips curl inward, and he presses them together. His nostrils flare. How close is he to losing control?
Why do I want him to let go so badly?
Alexander leans in, his mouth only a breath away from mine. He inhales so deeply, his chest almost touches mine. Then his mouth spreads into a grin, and his eyes light up.
“You definitely are a kitten. Now, get in the crate like a good kitty, or I’ll bend you over and show you what happens to naughty little pussies.”
