Page 61 of Finally, His

“Do you think anything can happen to you here?”

“Plenty,” she said with a tease in her voice.

His eyebrows furrowed. Okay, not what he wanted to hear. But it was true.

Alexander’s blue eyes bore down on her. Carson hadn’t moved an inch. But Derek leaned forward, his arms crossed across the back of the chair. His eyes glistened with something. Pride. That was what she saw.

She shifted her gaze. Sarah, Steffan, and Laurent stood as a group on the other side of the room, their faces still, though Laurent’s glee couldn’t be contained. And Marcos, the man who rescued her from Wayne all those years ago, stood next to the man, still guarding him.

She had so many people in her corner. Nothing horrible could happen to her there. Her brain knew that.

But she couldn’t stop her inner vigilance with Wayne in the room. His shoulders were hunched from defeat, yet the same judge-y disgust colored his face.

Richard slapped her flesh, and she cried out as flames seemed to lick at her skin. He slid a finger down her ass crack to her folds. “So much pain. Yet …” His finger swirled in all the wet. Of course, her body would respond to his handling that way. “Who is this for?”

Wayne chuffed, and Derek’s chair slammed to the ground. His eyes never left Charlotte, though.

Wayne shifted uncomfortably, perhaps waiting to be jumped. So strange. That was how she’d always felt. She’d walk by him on the couch, never knowing if she’d be yanked to the ground, told to crawl up between his knees. Make him come.

She’d once held a plate of nachos as the men watched a game. They'd tripped her, so she ended up over their laps, the cheese and chips going everywhere. They’d held her there for long minutes, all their hands on her, tickling her, trying to strip her …

But it was all a game to them, wasn’t it? To humiliate her?

“You. Only you,” she whispered. The words felt hollow even though they were true.

He thrust his finger in and out of her pussy. She was so damp; the sounds of her arousal filled the room. “All this for me.”

He moved to her ass and thrust that thick digit, wet with her juice, inside her. “And this?”

She gasped. He was never that harsh, usually warming her up slowly. But his hard erection pressed against her belly, his grip on her ribs tight and controlled, told her his patience was thinning.

“You,” she barely whispered.

“Who do you come for?” Richard growled, his pelvis arching slightly up at her. His desire was evident. He wanted her, too.

“You. Always, my Master.”

There wasn’t much Charlotte was certain of in life, but his desire for her was one of them. Yet he’d hold himself back for hours if needed.

His finger moved in and out. He then began to really torture her.

For more long minutes, he brought her to the edge again and again with his hands. He’d pinch the welts on her ass, then move his fingers in and out of her pussy, her ass. Going back and forth until she was nothing but raw need and electricity and didn’t care who was in the room.

He brought her to the state he wanted: needing to be fucked—hard.

“P-please,” she begged.

“Don’t you dare hold back.” His thumb pressed against her clit as his middle finger curled inside her.

She let go, shuddering on his lap, nearly falling off if it wasn’t for his strong grip around her torso. Her hands wrapped around one chair leg and one of his legs as she rode her release.

He let her come?

Wayne’s sick laugh ruined it. “All these guys next?”

Her gaze shot up, panic setting in.

Marcos, standing nearby, clocked Wayne on the side of his head. Wayne yelped and folded over his legs, spluttering and swearing.

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