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What if they go after your mother?
I shuddered in Alexander’s arms, trying my best to shrink away. My angel of a mother had no idea where I was. I’d told her big fat lies that I was ashamed of. She’d never wanted me to be a part of Garrison’s life. She’d once openly made fun of the boys now men, screaming at them from afar. I’d never forget the look on Alexander’s face that day, from the window I was hiding behind. The horrible things she’d said were like the ones she’d made me promise never to say.
After that, she’d forbidden me to see Garrison at all and would disown me if she’d known I’d gone to the prison two years before. I’d pretended like I was going away with a girlfriend. I’d even gotten Jessica to lie for me. The Greyhound bus ride had taken my entire savings account at the time, the experience horrible and nothing more.
But I’d gotten to see him, even if it had been behind thick glass, talking on a nasty console and nothing more.
Goddamn it. Why did I keep tearing up? I couldn’t allow these bastards to get to me.
Visions washed through me, all of them ugly, but the ones that had fueled my ridiculous plan in the first place. All the years of angst, birthdays missed, and holidays not spent together.
Then his funeral, only a few people in attendance. It had been an ugly day, dreary and overcast. At least the rain had stopped, allowing me to place flowers on his casket before they dumped six feet of dirt on top. I’d gotten there late, but I’d read the registry. Not one of the bastards had considered going. Of course they wouldn’t.
No. They hated my family. They’d use me then hurt my mother. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
“I’m nobody, Alexander. Nobody at all.”
His exhale was filled with the same anger he’d expressed earlier. I expected to be strapped to the monstrosity. Instead, he moved toward one of the two couches in the room, sitting down with a hard thud and dragging me over his lap.
“Then your punishment continues.” He didn’t say another word as he brought his hand down, slapping his palm against my backside.
I hung my head, gripping a portion of his jeans with one hand while smashing my fist into the soft leather with the other. The agony wasn’t as bad as before, but this was by far more humiliating. He was treating me like a child, doing nothing more than reminding me that all three of them had control of my body in every way. What none of them would yank away from me was my heart or soul.
Those weren’t for sale, or for stealing either.
After only a few brutal slaps, he stopped altogether, shifting me across his lap. His thick cock pressing against my stomach was as enticing as it was nauseating. For all the hatred I felt for him, I also experienced the same almost euphoric high as I had with Brogan. I was aching inside, the scent of my pussy giving me away as quickly as anything else.
“You’re wet for me, our little nymph.”
“No,” I said, which was absurd.
“Liar,” he mused, his laugh pissing me off.
“I don’t lie.” Another absurdity. I should have changed my statement—that up until I’d tried to kill him, I’d never lied. Now I’d lied to almost everyone around me. My mother. My best friend. My boss. And three men I’d once thought were saints instead of sinners.
“I’m certain when I rise to my feet, there will be a significant wet spot on my jeans.” He delivered several additional hard cracks, one coming after the other. Then he had the audacity to push a single finger past my folds. I bucked hard against him, almost managing to slide off his lap.
His laugh was the same malevolent tone as before. He was having fun with this, taunting me.
Just like I’d done to them.
I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth as a single finger became two then three. Within seconds, my pussy muscles were clamping around all three, pulling them in even deeper. Nothing could have mortified me any more than the atrocity of his actions.
But the bastard knew what he was doing, bringing me to the very precipice then backing away, slapping my bottom a few more times before repeating the effort. By the fourth time, I was pushed into a slumberous lull, unable to move. Every pant coming from my mouth echoed in my ears.
Even worse, he pushed open my legs even further, pressing the heel of his hand against my wetness, stroking slow and easy until he found a perfect rhythm. I closed my eyes, no longer finding the strength to keep them open. Just when I thought he’d drive me to another moment of rapture, he stopped altogether.
The slight whimper I heard had come from my mouth. I bit down on my lip, doing everything I could to keep another one from escaping.
Alexander was gentle in his actions as he lifted and eased my aching bottom against his lap. He cradled me close, sliding a single finger through my disheveled hair.
“You’re much more beautiful without your costumes,” he said, his voice decidedly sensual.
“What are you going to do to me?” I had to ask. I needed to know.
“That’s going to depend on you, our mystery girl. Isn’t that right, gentlemen?” He lifted his head, his smirk the one he’d always worn in his pictures. As if he was the ruler of the world.
As if he had knowledge on every living, breathing human being.
