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I see the slight trickle of blood at the side of her mouth and my heart stops. I hurt her. I never lose control and I lost control with my little angel, letting her feel how much I wanted her but hurting her in the process.
I back away quickly and set her on the seat again, trying to hide the little lift of my lips when she sways into me, her breathing still uneven, choppy, raspy.
“I’m sorry, little one. I was too rough with you.” I take out my handkerchief and dab at the side of her mouth.
She doesn’t even flinch, just sits frozen in the seat, her breath coming out so fast that I start to worry that she’s going to run.
“Are you alright?”
“I think alright is a relative term,” she says, her voice distracted, husky with desire.
“Let’s go home and I’ll show you your new space.”
“I’ll have my own space?” She seems surprised.
My mouth kicks up. “Yeah. But don’t get too excited, baby. You will have your own space but when you’re not with me, you’ll be confined to that space. At least until I’m sure that I can trust you. Until I’m sure that you’re not going to run from me.” My face hardens and I stare her down. “Know this, baby girl. If you try and run, I will find you. If you are even late getting someplace, I will tear this damn town apart until I find you and then, depending on the reason, you’ll be punished for it. You might not be able to sit for a week. But I’m not letting you go so get used to it. You are mine.”
Her eyes lift to mine and there’s a quiver at the side of her mouth, a glitter in her eyes that says she’s holding in tears. I don’t like it but for right now, it’s necessary.
I will not lose her. And God save the idiot that ever tries to touch her. I will rip them apart with my bare hands. You don’t touch what’s mine. Not if you want to live.
CHAPTER7
Bonnie
Locked in another damn room. This one is at least specifically made for me. It’s full of beautiful, antique white furniture with gilt accents. A very real gilded cage.It’s a rich silver-gray with a soft, blue-gray floral print.
There is a mirrored louvered ceiling that reflects all the beauty of the room back to me. Each corner of the room has a lovely antique white chair in it with gilt on the back. The seat cushions are a deep gray velvet.
Every bit of this room is soft and hauntingly beautiful. My old room was basically a bunch of furniture that didn’t match and bedding for a small child that was never outgrown.
I wander around the room and touch the canopy bed with tall corners that have sheer deep blue scarfs trailing around the bed. It’s exotic and beautiful and I’ve never seen anything like it. When he showed it to me, he smiled.
“I had everything in this room especially made just for you.” My head spun. I cannot believe he decided that I was going to be his and then he designed something specifically for me. Hoping that I would love it.
I’ve never had someone care that much about what I thought or felt.
It’s obvious that Victor made sure that I had every comfort in this place.
But it’s still just a gilded cage. He locked the door with an ornate antique key and smirked at me when he left the room.
“This will only be for a short period of time. Until I can trust you. Until you belong to me fully and don’t sit around every night when you’re alone trying to decide how to leave me.”
“Great. Well, if things ever change, I’ll let you know. But I’m not a slave to your passions and desires.”
My back was rigid with tension. Lord knows I hate being locked in. I cannot stand the thought that if something happens to this house, I will not be free to make my way out. I will need to be rescued. Why the hell do I keep landing myself in this kind of situation?
I sigh and crawl up onto the silky bedding, wrapping it tightly around my shoulders and let my eyes close. I’m too tired to do anything else.
He watches me from the shadows, his dark, brooding gaze eating me up. I can feel the way his eyes burn a trail over me as I writhe and moan. My hand comes down and wraps around my breast, plucking at it restlessly. My back arches and I moan, loud and long, needing him more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.
But he doesn’t touch me. Just watches me as I beg and plead for him to take me. My hand slips down and slithers between the plump, pink, aching folds of my pussy and caresses my swollen little pearl, my fingers wrapping around it and tugging it. A swift current of pain jolts me and then my hips are lifting and falling rhythmically.
“Please,” whimpering and crying out, I twist and twitch, lost in the throes of a hunger that’s tearing me apart in the most basic, primal way.
I’ve been waiting for a man to wake me, to bring me to life. A man who’s a match for my desires and lusts. A man who has tamped down his own natural inclinations to survive in the world but now that I’m here, he can’t keep it civilized. Can’t control his base lusts. He has to have me.
Just like I have to have him. “Fuck me,” I whimper, my voice strained and barely hanging on as I continue to pluck my nipples and drive a slim finger into my tight pussy. It’s not enough. It will never be enough until he’s balls-deep in me, both of us barreling towards an oncoming lustful release that rips apart the thin veneer of civility and takes our animal passions to whirling new heights.
