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“Penny for your thoughts.”
The phrase sounds oddly delicious in his accent, and I turn my face up to look into his dark eyes. His brows are thick and kind of messy, and he’s got a few beauty marks speckled across his upper cheeks like constellations.
He’s unfairly good-looking. It’s completely disarming.
“Would you leave if I asked you to?”
He laughs. “Yes. I can tell you right now, everyone in this house likes it enthusiastically willing.”
I push myself closer until I’m pressed against him, and I can tell he’s still hard. “You’re turned on.”
“You’re sexy,” he fires back.
My cheeks heat, which is absurd considering that I’m his kidnapping victim, and I shouldn’t be fucking flattered. But here we are. “What would you do if I said no?”
“I’d go and fuck Phoenix. Or maybe Ari, though I’m a bit tired, and he likes to get…athletic.”
Oh, that shouldn’t make my need worse, but it does. My pussy gets hotter, and I clench my thighs. “So, the two of you are…”
“The four of us, darling girl,” he corrects, lifting his hand to brush a stray lock of hair from where it dropped in front of my eye. He strokes my jawline, then presses his thumb to the hollow of my throat. “They are the loves of my life.”
I feel something else now—just as hot but nowhere near as pleasant. Maybe it’s confusion that these men—these monsters—can claim to love. Or maybe it’s that no one has ever offered me that kind of affection.
Either way, I hate it.
I want to reach out and crush it into tiny pieces so everyone feels hollow just like I do.
James, however, seems determined to make sure that doesn’t happen. He laughs again and leans in, speaking right against my ear. “You’re upset, little darling.”
“I’m—” I stop. I’m what?
Horny? Jealous?
Afraid? Desperate?
I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence. My breath catches in my throat as he parts the front of the robe and slides his hand between my thighs. His fingers are cold now, and I hiss as he urges my legs apart. His thumb rubs my clit in a teasing circle as I feel myself get wetter, and my knees start to tremble because I have very little strength left.
James doesn’t force me to stand through it, though. Instead, he eases me back to the duvet, which sinks at least an inch under my weight. My vision is a little fuzzy from just how damn tired I am, but I can see him through the slight blur, smiling down at me like a man about to devour a meal.
I’ve seen that look before on Marco’s face, when he’s about to be sent on a mission. Or on my father, when one of his plans was successful and he was about to confront the person he destroyed. I feel a little sick that I lived under him for so long, pretending like I could just walk away from it once I was given the chance at freedom.
But I don’t get much of a chance to sink into that spiral because James quickly leans in and unties the belt of my robe with his teeth. He grazes a bite against my lower stomach, then a little lower until he’s nosing through my thick curls. My pussy throbs, and I feel wetness seeping out, and he honest to God groans before pulling away.
“You smell fucking delicious.”
“Don’t feed me some peaches-and-cream bullshit,” I warn him, and he throws his head back laughing before he’s suddenly straddling me and cupping my breast. He thumbs my nipple, which makes me arch into his touch, and he bares his teeth in a mockery of a grin.
“You don’t smell like peaches or cream, little darling. You don’t smell like roses. You smell like wet cunt and lavender soap, and I can’t wait to taste it.”
My breath hitches as he pinches my nipple, and then he slides off to the side, his mouth lowering so his teeth can take the place of his sharp nails, and his fingers delve down to part my folds and torment me. I spread my legs further to give him better access, and he moans his approval before dragging his tongue ring over my slit.
“Needy little virgin,” he croons.
I shift restlessly. I still haven’t gotten what I need from him, and the way his jeans are still firmly on his body, I can tell he’s probably not going to fuck me.
“What do you want?” he asks.
I can’t give him an answer because I don’t know. I used to fantasize about being kidnapped. About a faceless man dangerous enough to scare my father breaking into my bedroom, making me come on my childhood sheets, then whisking me away from everything that made me feel useless and unloved.
