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“I don’t think you’ve been a good girl, princess. I’m going to tie you up and spank you real hard when I get back.”

“Oh yes, I think I need that,” she whispers with a hint of mischief in her voice.

“Now push two fingers inside and start moving them. Imagine it’s me who’s doing it to you.”

Like a little obedient vixen, Daniela pushes her fingers inside and starts to fuck herself. Her moans fill the air, charging me up even more. I pump my cock in my hand, letting it glide smoothly with my pre-come and some spit. Daniela makes me so hard, and as she fingers herself toward a demanding orgasm, I mirror her actions. “Tell me how it feels, Daniela.”

She breathes heavily and rasps, “I feel…like it’s you touching me. And it feels so good.”

“What else do you imagine me doing?” I thrust my hips upward in my hand, pumping hard and groaning loudly.

“I want to feel your mouth between my thighs…your tongue…I want to ride your face, Remo.”

“Yes, that’s perfect.” I watch her stiffen, her body arching away from the chair as her orgasm rolls through her like a tidal wave. “You’re so beautiful when you come. God, I’m going tofuck you so hard when I see you. And punish you for being such a dirty slut and making me so damn hard.”

That sends me tumbling forward in my seat as I spew my release all over my hands and pants. Breathless, I let the aftershocks roll through me. Daniela stands, picks up the phone, and waves it playfully. “I need to go clean up, Boss.”

“You definitely should.”

She hangs up, places her phone back on the bed, and turns to look at the camera. She’s still gloriously naked and a bit angry, but in her eyes, I see a softness that wasn’t there before. A softness that makes my heart race.

Without another word, she walks toward the bathroom, and I turn off the camera for the night.

Chapter 13

Daniela

The walls feel like they’re closing in. Every tick of the clock scrapes against my nerves like a serrated blade. I pace the length of the room for the hundredth time, my shoes scuffing the polished floor as I glance at the window.

The sun mocks me with its freedom, painting the garden in gold while I stew in this sterile cage.

I drop onto the couch, but the cushion gives too easily beneath me, leaving no satisfaction. If I sit here for much longer, I’ll fucking explode.

The guards outside my door are statues in suits—silent, immovable, and dull as hell. I throw open the door with more force than necessary, startling one of them, but he recovers fast, his hand hovering near his gun.

“Relax,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’m not planning a jailbreak. Not today, at least.”

His eyes narrow slightly, but he says nothing.

“I need to get out,” I announce. “Just for a little while. There’s an antique shop downtown that I’ve been dying to visit.”

The other guard, the taller of the two, tilts his head, skeptical.

“Not happening,” he replies. His voice is flat.

I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms. “Look, I’m not asking to walk into a war zone. It’s a shop run by a sweet old lady who probably doesn’t even know how to use a phone, let alone pose a threat. I’ll behave. And you two can play watchdog all you want.”

“We have orders.”

“And I have cabin fever,” I snap. “If you want me to keep my sanity intact, you’ll let me breathe some fresh air. Or do you want to explain to your boss why his little ‘guest’ had a meltdown?”

The taller one sighs, exchanging a glance with his partner. The shorter guard shrugs slightly as if to say, “Your call.”

“Fine,” the tall one relents. “But we’re sticking to you like glue.”

“Lovely,” I mutter, already turning toward the stairs.

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