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“Be touching me like that?”
“No?” I carried on doing it, anyway. “But I like touching you, Taylor and I know you like it as well.” Sliding my hand into her pants fully, I splayed my fingers. The tip of the middle one pressed firmly over her already swollen clit.
“I don’t.” Her voice broke. Her chest heaved as she tried to control her breathing. “Please stop. This isn't what I came here for.”
My hand stilled, but I kept it where it was. If she wanted me to stop, I would, but we both knew she didn’t really want to stop. Taylor could believe she had only come to talk, but I knew different. Her body betrayed her.
“No? What did you come here for really, Taylor?”
“Because he said you wanted to talk.” She sounded suddenly unsure of herself. Almost like she was starting to see how unbelievable that actually was.
“Oh, we have plenty to talk about, but right at this second, talking is not what you want me to be doing with my mouth, Taylor. Why not be honest with yourself for once?”
“I don’t. I shouldn't be here.” Panic edged her voice.
“Where else should you be? No one is missing you, Taylor. Your boss doesn't expect you for weeks. Your friends didn’t even care enough to make sure you got home safe when you left them. And I know there isn't a boyfriend or any other romantic partner. There's just me and you, and the sooner you realise I am what you really want, the easier this will go.”
“I don’t know…” She trailed off. “Why am I here, Christian?”
“Because I want you to be.” I twirled one loose blonde strand of hair around my finger. “And I always get what I want.”
“I was promised that I could leave at any time.” She was on the verge of crying, but somehow, she kept it together. She didn’t break, and I was kind of glad about that. I liked having dominance over women, but this little glimpse of a backbone was a massive turn on. It would be fun to fuck it out of her.
Rolling onto my back, I threw one arm over my eyes, but I kept one eye firmly on her. “You’re not a prisoner, Taylor, you can leave whenever you want to.”
She was off the bed and trotting barefoot towards the door before the words were fully out of my mouth.
I grinned as I followed after her, keeping my distance but shadowing her so she knew I was there.
Here it came. The freak out.
I was kind of looking forward to it.
TAYLOR
Something was wrong, and I had been blind not to see it before. Well maybe not blind, maybe it was more the fact that I didn’t want to see it.
But I saw it now. Clearly and totally.
Gio had lied to me, Christian had as well. When he had opened his sinfully pretty mouth and told me I could leave anytime I wanted.
I couldn’t leave. Not unless I fancied swimming to the shore that I could barely see in the distance.
“I–” My hand curled around the rail. Even in the half–light, I could see the whiteness of my knuckles as I gripped it hard. My voice faltered. Because what could I say? I had been the one to agree to come here of my own free will. No one had held a gun to my head, and the reason was pretty clear.
My stupid romantic loving personality. My night with Christian had been something, I wasn’t sure what, but it had been something special. Then, after I had seen him in the courtroom, once I had realised who and what he was, I subconsciously pictured him as some kind of hero. A misunderstood bad boy. Had I deep down wanted to be the heroine in my very own epic love story and save him?
There was no saving a man like The Judge. I knew that deep down. He was bad, right to his core, and he had kidnapped me. Trapped me on his yacht in the middle of the ocean and for what reason?
I shook my head, and the wind lifted my hair from my face. Whatever the reason was, it wasn't good. I knew that deep down. I didn’t think he wanted to kill me...yet. If my death had been his plan, there would have been ample chance to take me out without all of the– I looked around–fanfare.
No, The Judge didn’t want me dead just yet, but I wasn’t about to hang around and find out what he wanted me for. I had a pretty good guess. He had taken me to bed knowing exactly who I was. He’d had someone ‘collect’ me and bring me to where I had no way to escape. It all pointed to one thing.
He wanted me at his disposal.
Probably as some kind of weird sex slave. And what would happen to me after he grew bored of me? Would I be trafficked? Or would I be killed? I wouldn’t last because I knew he would get bored of me. It was inevitable.
Still gripping the rail in a death grip, I lifted my leg, placing my bare foot on the first rung. My other one quickly followed.
