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Kyra moves restlessly, pressing her fingers into my pec where her hand lays. I place mine over it to settle her, and she does.
So trusting.
The stupid little prisoner.
I am the world’s worst kidnapper. I may as well buy her a car and give her a fucking credit card.
I curse quietly.
“Maddox?” she asks, her voice rough in the dim morning light.
“Hey.” Mine is deep and just as rough, so I clear my throat.
I should’ve slipped out, but I slept heavily for hours after coming for the third or fourth time. I couldn’t get enough of her body, those sparkling blue eyes and her sweet juices.
She’s a little seductress.
I wipe my hand over my forehead and then through my hair, letting out a sigh. I don’t know what to say to her. This is stepping into seriously fucked-up territory. I spent hours inside her body, her mouth licking and biting every intimate part of me.
I can’t just lock her in this room and fuck her whenever I want.
Tempting.
Very tempting.
I need to make a decision on how we move forward. I also can’t just send her home. I might be pussy struck right now, but I’m not an idiot. Kyra will call the cops and I’ll be arrested.
Worse—slightly—Pierce would regain his reputation and, likely, improve it with news his estranged and insane son kidnapped his fiancé.
Fuck that.
Before I can decide how to proceed, Kyra lifts onto her elbow and gazes directly down into my eyes.
“What did your father do to you?”
Fucking hell.
She goes right for the jugular every single time.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” I glance toward the windows, forcing my focus to stay in here and now. I don’t want thoughts of what that monster did to me as a child in bed with Kyra.
Ever...
My body goes rock hard as I still, taken aback by where that thought pattern was headed.
Ever? As in for-fucking-ever.
Jesus Christ. I sink my cock inside her once—okay, four or five times—and suddenly I’m spending my life with her? Maybe I need to go to a shrink?
That ship has sailed.
“I do, Maddox. Help me understand.” She runs the back of her hand over my cheek, and I close my eyes.
Her touch. It’s like a warm breeze on a summer day, sending rays of joy into my darkness. It’s foreign, and I want to welcome it in, but I can’t.
I turn back to Kyra and grab her hand. Her mouth falls open, but she doesn’t flinch. She should be scared of me, even when that’s the last thing I want.
“No. Tell me you’re being forced to marry him.” I order.