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“I’m all sticky between my legs. I need to shower.”
Her prissiness will be the death of me and my dick agrees, immediately getting ready for another round.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I yank her back to bed, snatch my belt and use it to tie up her wrists to keep her in place. She fidgets, panting and looks at me like she doesn’t know whether to cry for help or already ask for seconds.
“I’ll clean up that mess for you,” I rasp, pushing her thighs apart before positioning myself between them. Lowering my mouth, I grin against her pulsating flesh, “After all, what are stepbrother’s for?”
8.
Greta
We’ve crossed a line.
And it was the most amazing thing ever.
I’ve been thinking about Dacre all day, wanting him to come home from the streets and at the same time I want him to take his time. A couple of hours before midnight, and I’m already sneaking around in his office.
He didn’t make a big deal out of giving me the money but they are on his desk and I sneak the cash into my bag. With my heart beating like a frantic freight train, I put on my clothes, tell Baldur to stay put and leave the apartment.
The city life is busy this evening and it takes forever until I get to cross the street. Down at the stables, I’m so nervous I barely have the time to cuddle with Guinevere when she happily neighs at me. I’m going to the drop off without a weapon and I don’t know any self-defense but in case anything goes wrong I’ll at least have a thousand pound horse to hide behind.
Tacking Guinevere, I sit up and steer her toward the park. We ride in the park quite a lot and she doesn’t fuss, not even when daylight begins to dim. I’m so on edge I barely dare to breathe when I realize it’s not all just about the drop off.
Something feels...different.
I can’t explain it but there are constant shivers down my spine, goosebumps prickling the back of my neck and I can only remember one other time when I felt like this. In high school when we were doing a play and I was on stage, having all eyes on me.
Frowning, I look around.
I’m not being watched am I?
The park is the same as always, there’s the pond, the volleyball net and the colorful leaves make it look like it’s bedazzled with amber and copper. And yet I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s gaze is zoning in on me.
I want Dacre to be here. He would’ve known how to handle this. Swallowing, I grab the reins tighter, cantering Guinevere until the clock nears midnight and the park empties on people.
Jumping down from Guinevere, I wrap the reins around a tree trunk and pull the hoodie of my lavender cape over my head. A fog begins rolling in, causing my breath to turn into thick clouds and I shiver, looking around in every direction.
What if my blackmailer attacks me...?
And for some reason I’m more worried about coming home to Dacre with a black eye than being beat up. If he sees me like that I have a feeling he wouldn’t spare a single man crossing his path, innocent or not innocent.
The chill’s getting worse and worse and I’m starting to wonder if this was just some trick someone played to mess with me when I see a dark figure between the trees. My breath hitches in my throat and I whimper,
“I got the money. They’re in my bag.”
The figure remains motionless and I wonder whether to just toss him the bag and escape on Guinevere when he takes a step closer. Something about the way he moves is familiar and the hair on my nape rises.
I can’t see the figure’s eyes but somehow I still feel them piercing into mine and he steps out from the mist and shadows and I gasp in shock.
“You!” I breathe and Dacre looks down on me. “B...but...”
I’m confused and a slow smile crosses Dacre’s face.
“Don’t get angry, princess,” he whispers. “I did what I had to. You never would have let me anywhere near you if I hadn’t blackmailed you.”
Croaking something incoherent, I shake my head, still struggling to wrap my mind around this. “You read my diary,” I pant and the realization hits me like a sucker punch. Dacre knows everything, every little dirty thought I’ve had about him and I put my palms up on his chest to steady myself.
“You had no right to do that,” I moan. “That was so mean of you.”
