I shudder. Fantasy and reality blur into one terrifying picture that enhances a truth I’ve always known—I’m his.
To the ends of the earth and back.
“Are you thinking about what I’ll do when I catch you?”
With a timorous nod, I slide my fingers down to my slit, circle the entrance, and grind the butt of my wrist into my clit.
“Are you scared?”
“No.”
“What if you run from me and I chase after you anyway?”
“You’re mine.” Need roars through my veins. “Why wouldn’t you?”
Something wistful pops into his expression but he shakes it off to ask, “Are you wet, Victoria?”
“Very.”
“And you’re happy with your fingers when they could be mine?”
“Maybe you should only look. You’re too cocky for your own good.”
Set a date.
BAH!
“But I thought we were interested in equality.”
I arch my back as sensation ripples through me, sharp but short. “We are. But I want you to watch me.”
“Why?”
“Because I like your eyes on me.” I pant.
Wherever his focus touches, I feel burning heat that sets my soul alight, forcing me to embrace how no one’s ever studied me this intently.
I blossom, reveling in the intensity he focuses on me like a spotlight.
“One day,pchelka,I’ll chase you down and it won’t be your fingers stroking that tight little cunt. It’ll be mine,” he growls. “I’ll impale you on my dick until you can taste me in your throat and I won’t stop untilyou scream my name?—”
I should hate that his words make me come.
But I can’t.
I close my eyes, trembling as my orgasm tears me in two. Better than anything I can normally do with my fingers alone.
Apparently, I appreciate a captive audience.
Who knew?
Though…
In a family with very little attention given to the kids, it probably stands to reason that I’m this way.
Absently, as I catch my breath, I wonder if Inessa and Camille dig being watched too. Inessa gave me the idea that being chased was hot. What else do we crave after growing up in that hellhole of a house?
“Why don’t I trust that expression?”
