Page 49 of Pretty Hostage


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I can’t murder anyone on a college campus, I told myself firmly. Not even a little.

Violence of any kind on my part would cause problems for Sofia. I was escorting her back into her pretty little world, a world I had no place in. It seemed my impulse control would be stretched to its limit today.It turned out that the Alexander Technique was exactly as much bullshit as I’d initially suspected. Sofia’s professor droned on and on about how different joints in the body were connected, and if you paid attention to them, you could loosen them up to “widen” and “float.”

All I saw were weak points on the body where I could do the most damage with my fists.

Sofia watched Professor Lassiter with rapt attention, her emerald eyes wide and serious. As though he was imparting some great, secret wisdom rather than simply using a bunch of flowery words to tell her that standing straight was good for her posture.

I leaned back in the tiny chair I’d selected by the door, removed from where the group stood in a rough semicircle at the front of the room. After Sofia had introduced me as a prospective student, the professor had invited me to join them, informing me that the Alexander Technique was “beneficial for everyone’s health.”

I was certain that the skinny, middle-aged man had never been nearly as fit as I was. He was wearing a fucking turtleneck, for god’s sake.

I didn’t need some graying, mustachioed weirdo in a turtleneck telling me how to be healthy.

Everything was going fine so far, even if it was tedious and mildly stupid. While guarding Adrián, I spent a lot of time in stillness. I might be impulsive when it came to my own selfish desires, but I was also very practiced at watching and waiting while I was on the job protecting Adrián’s back.

I wasn’t actively protecting Sofia from a threat at the moment, but it wasn’t a hardship to watch her. Everything about her was delicate and dainty, and I entertained myself by appreciating each of her elegant features in detail.

I observed her wiggling her slender fingers along with her classmates, “warming up” to perform.

“Don’t think of it as a stretch,” Professor Lassiter told his students. “Think of it as extending your range.”

It took concerted effort not to roll my eyes.

As a group, they all started twisting their torsos from side to side, letting their arms dangle and sway loosely. Everyone looked utterly idiotic, except Sofia.

Her mahogany curls bounced around her face, her emerald eyes shining and her lush lips curved in a smile. She was clearly enjoying the class, so I was content enough with my stationary position by the door.

No matter how ridiculous their not-quite-stretches were.

“Okay,” Professor Lassiter announced, stilling his twisting torso. “Now, let’s slowly raise our arms and clasp our hands.”

Sofia lifted her arms gracefully, like a ballet dancer. Watching her move was hypnotic enough, but when she clasped her hands together above her head and held the pose, my perverted brain went into overdrive.

I imagined her with cuffs around her wrists, chains hanging from the ceiling to anchor her arms in place. Trapping her for my admiration and amusement. When I had my pretty hostage bound and at my mercy, would she look at me with desire? Trepidation? Trust?

Fuck, I wanted all of it. I was greedy for everything she had to offer me.

“Drop your hands, and lace your fingers together behind your head.” Professor Lassiter’s lilting voice sounded again, and Sofia moved to obey.

For the space of a second, my bondage fantasy was cleared away, but my reprieve was short-lived.

“Now, arch your back and let your spine stretch.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Sofia’s hands were immobilized behind her head, her breasts thrust out in offering and her pelvis tilted forward.

I’d imagined having her beneath me like this countless times. My good girl would keep her hands right where I told her to while I played with her pretty nipples until she arched into my tormenting touch and begged for more.

I scrubbed my hand over my beard, struggling to retain my composure.

Did innocent Sofia truly have no notion of how erotic she looked in this position?

I tore my covetous gaze from her just long enough to ensure that none of the men were looking at what was mine.

Luckily for their sakes, no one was eyeing her with hunger.

No one except me, and I was fucking ravenous for her.

Mercifully, Professor Lassiter announced an end to the warm-up exercises. Just in time, because my jeans were getting uncomfortably tight around my cock.

“Sofia,” he addressed her, beckoning her into the center of the semicircle. “Let’s start with you today, since your friend is here.”

For the first time since class had started, she made eye contact with me. Her features illuminated with a radiant smile that was so bright it made something burn in the center of my chest.

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