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The desire to lift my leg to allow his sizable member inside me is almost all I can think of. God, the way his huge body consumes the space above me and makes me feel so...feminine and desirable. I’ve never felt this before.
I want him to touch me more.
To kiss me.
To...fill me.
“Tell me Kyra, has my father fucked you yet? Taken you for a test drive?”
I gasp at his crude question.
The asshole.
I take back everything I just felt.
Then I spit in his face.
Maddox closes his eyes and wipes my saliva onto his shirt-clad broad shoulder. His gaze lands back on me angrily.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He growls.
I can still see the question in his eyes, and I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of the truth.
“Do this again, sweetheart, and I’ll be wiping your saliva off mycock.”
My mouth falls open and his eyes roam my lips.
I lick them, and he grunts, annoyed with me, then climbs off me. He doesn’t make any attempt to hide his erection as he rearranges himself.
“Don’t read into anything, sweetheart. You’re a beautiful woman. It’s nature. Nothing more.”
I try to sit up and sass him, but wince as my wounded hand presses against the bed.
“Ouch,”
“Fuck's sake.” Maddox reaches down and pulls me off the bed. “Come with me.”
That’s when I get my first glimpse outside my prison cell.
Also...he thinks I’m beautiful.
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MADDOX
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THE LAST THING I need is Kyra to get an infection and then need to call a doctor. Or take her to the hospital.
I misread her.
I knew the fork was a risk, but throwing the entire bowl and creating a prison shard from it is quite ingenious for a woman like her.
I privately scoff.
She probably did some fancy—and useless—personal defense course with a celebrity trainer.
Sure, I was brought up by wealthy parents, but unlike Kyra, I was not treated with kid gloves. I was abused from the moment I can remember and taught to keep my mouth shut. That my friends would be ashamed of me if they knew that I liked to touch my daddy.