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“Sorry, they were there and begging to be sucked.” I spank her ass. “Now go shower and get ready for dinner.”
Her jaw clenches. “And I’m not allowed to touch myself in the shower?”
“No,” I growl, grabbing her chin. “And I’ll know if you do because I’ve got a camera in there.”
“That’s a little perverted.”
I arch a brow. “I have to keep an eye on you, don’t I?”
She releases a long sigh and then jumps out of bed, strutting toward the adjoining bathroom. Before she gets to the door, she looks over her shoulder at me. “Why don’t you join me?”
She’s a fucking vixen considering she’s a virgin.
“While I’d love to, I have dinner to cook.”
Ella pouts but then walks into the bathroom, her hips swaying and drawing my eyes to her naked form.
She’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen. Curvy in all the right places.
I shake my head and take a deep breath, forcing myself to turn away. I need to get dinner ready before she comes out. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and Ella must be starving.
I call up the video camera in the shower and put my cell phone propped against a mug by the chopping board. If she even thinks about touching herself, I’ll march back in there and tie her up again. My cock throbs as I see her threading her hands through her hair and lathering shampoo.
The cabin is well stocked, and I bought supplies with me, too. I get to work chopping the vegetables forMelanzane alla parmigiana. I’ve not cooked for years. When I was getting to know Giada, my first wife, I used to cook for her. We may have had an arranged marriage, but we became good friends.
While neither of us professed love for each other, we had mutual respect and were attracted to each other. But what I feel for Ella is different. It’s profound and impossible to ignore.
Once I’ve got all the vegetables sauteed, I put together the dish and place it in the oven. Ella is still in the shower. Her hands braced against the wall as the water cascades down her back.
I wonder if she feels as confused as I do. If we do fuck tonight, I know I won’t let her go. The problem is that Ella comes across as the kind of girl who longs for a fairytale love. Hell, she told me she believes in it. I don’t do love. I’ll fuck her. I’ll possess her. She’ll be mine. But love is not on the cards.
As I lean back against the counter with my phone in my hand, I need to take things into my own hands again. Rubbing my cock through my pants, I shut my eyes. I haven’t been this fucking horny since I was a teenager.
The filthy things I want to do to that girl should be illegal. The problem is Ella is so sweet and innocent, and my tastes are dark. I want to tie her up, choke her while I fuck her, make her almost pass out and see stars so that her orgasm is so explosive she won’t know her own fucking name.
A virgin can’t handle that shit, so I need to rein it in, at least at first. Before I know what I’m doing, my dick is in my hand, and I’m stroking myself. My balls ache for release as I picture her bent over in the shower, showing me her pretty virgin pussy and asking me to fuck it.
I groan as I imagine how good it will feel to slide myself inside her. It’s going to become a reality tonight. Ella will be mine, no matter how twisted up that is.
My sweet little angel is going to be corrupted by darkness.
22
ELLA
Isit opposite Remy as he moves to the stereo in the corner of the room. The soft tune of “Call Out My Name” by the Weeknd adds to the romantic atmosphere as Remy dims the lights, drawing my attention to the lit candles on every surface, creating a soft glow across the wooden walls.
The scent of pine mingles with the tantalizing aroma of dinner, which Remy cooked.
If I thought this man couldn’t be any more perfect, he cooks!
The crackling fireplace, the comforting, rustic décor, and the muted sounds of the surrounding woods outside the cabin make this an idyllic, romantic setting. It’s our little world, perfectly secluded.
“Did you cook from scratch?” I ask.
He smiles at me, and it’s a genuine, beautiful smile. A smile that threatens to make my heart explode. “Yes, I have hidden talents.” If he smiled more often, I think I’d die.
I fear his hidden talents will make me want him more. “What’s for dinner?”
