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Accompanying Song: “If I Had A Heart” by Fever Ray
Chase
“Go ahead. I won’t look,” I say.
She shrugs and hooks her fingers underneath the band of her bra to unclip it. “I don’t mind. I’m blind, so I won’t know anyway,” she replies.
A smirk spreads across my lips. I like her already.
I almost can’t believe she said that. Then again, Graham already said she was the sassiest of all three. I’m going to have my hands full with her.
Both figuratively … and literally.
Because fuck me … I can’t stop myself from peeking as her bra drops to the floor, and two magnificent tits fall out. Plump and juicy … ready to be sucked until her nipples peak.
Fuck.
Why am I even thinking this?
I shake my head and force myself to forget that image.
However, when I open my eyes again, she’s turned her head toward me, almost as if she can sense I did something … or thought something dirty.
Guess we’re more in tune than I thought.
Her fingers curl around her panties, and she pulls them down, just like that. Not giving a shit that I’m here. Watching.
As she said, she can’t see, so how would she know?
Still, I feel like a goddamn pervert, so I avert my eyes as she steps underneath the showerhead and turns on the water. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get that perfect round butt out of my mind. Or how badly I want to bite it.
Fuck.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I can’t think these things. Not with her.
It’s wrong. It’s sinful. And it makes me the fucking devil.
So I immediately turn around and close the door behind me, breathing in and out to calm down. I’d intended to stay and watch, in case she decided to grab something like a razor or smash the mirror to use it as a weapon, but I can’t do it.
I just can’t.
I was this close. This close … to just grabbing her body and fucking her right then and there.
So I slap myself.
Right in the face.
Pain is the punishment I deserve for wanting something so forbidden.
I bought her.
She’s mine.
And I have to take care of what’s mine.
So I walk away from the door and tell myself not to return until she calls my name.
Chapter Seven
Accompanying Song: “Hold Your Breath” by Ruelle
Syrena
When I get out from underneath the shower, I pat myself down with the towel and wrap it around my body. Chase didn’t leave any clothes. Maybe he was planning to, but he left the bathroom so suddenly I didn’t have the time to ask. I guess taking my clothes off in front of him got a little too hot to handle.
I know what I have, and I’m not afraid to show it off.
Especially not if I can use it to persuade my captor.
I mean, anything goes, right?
He’s keeping me a prisoner in his home, so I might as well try to get something out of it.
Maybe if I try hard enough, he’ll let me go.
So I open the door and walk out into the living room. The scent of coffee hangs in the air, and I sniff to take it all in. My mouth waters as it wafts past me, out of the kitchen.
“Coffee’s ready,” he says.
If I remember the layout of his apartment correctly, he’s already standing near the table.
“Oh …” Judging from the sound of his voice, he just looked.
My whole face turns red. “There weren’t any clothes.”
“Shit. I forgot.” He rushes past me, into a room, but I don’t know which. A few drawers open and close, and then he slams the door shut again.
“Hold out your hands.” He’s right in front of me now, and when I do what he asks, he puts what feels like a dress in my hands. “Put it on.”
I shrug and immediately drop my towel to the floor. Then I lift my arms and slide the dress on.
I’m pretty sure he’s watching.
I can tell from his hampered breaths.
I wonder if he liked what he saw.
He immediately turns and walks away. “C’mon. Sit,” he says, and he pulls out a chair.
I’m still wondering why he has clothes that fit me perfectly. “This is … nice,” I mumble, touching the fabric.
“You like it? I bought some on a whim. If it’s not the right size, I can get you something else.”
“No, it’s fine,” I reply, touching the table to make sure I’m on the right side before sitting down.
“Good.” He scoots my chair up and puts his hands on my shoulders, squeezing a little. “You must’ve missed the normal things like coffee. What else have you missed? A lot, probably,” he continues. “I plan to cook for you. I want you to taste every little thing you’ve been missing out on for months.” He leans over in my ears and says, “Do you like juicy … red … meat?”
