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For the very first time in my life, I want to be wanted. I want to be cared for in the way I require. And maybe that’s his goal. He wants me to need him because cutting me loose is how he will issue the final blow, the one that really hurts me.
“Never,” I hiss as his thumb circles my clit.
“Good,” he whispers, sounding a little distracted as his eyes follow his fingers down my thigh. “I’m thinking about keeping you. There’s nothing better than owning a hot, slippery cunt that’s always begging to be abused.”
I can’t deny it. I can feel the cool air in the room on the slickness forming below.
There’s no sense in using words to deny what he can see with his own eyes.
Then he walks away.
Rage boils inside of me.
I hate being alone. I hate silence.
He fucking knows it. It’s one more way for him to get inside my psyche, one more way to control me.
Before long, he’s back with a plate of food and I remain calm, although I’m close to begging for a bite as he slowly places the plate on the bedside table before untying my legs. He helps me sit up, the warmth of his body against mine as he lifts me under the arms. I resist the urge to take a bite out of his neck because I’m fucking starving.
His fingers wander between bites, and the softness of his gentle touch is enough to drive me insane.
I make a plan in my head as he offers me the last bite, but it’s like he has access to my thoughts, because he moves quickly out of the way before I can kick him.
He chuckles as he stands, and that laughter carries him out of the room.
The first chance I get, I may kill that motherfucker.
Chapter 29
Angel
Lies come easy to me.
I’d even consider myself a professional at them.
But when I told Lauren I was thinking about keeping her, it didn’t sound like the lie I intended it to be.
It left me on edge, feeling a little out of control.
The woman is tied to my bed, yet is still somehow driving me insane.
I can cut her loose, set her free, but then she’ll run.
I don’t know why that thought bothers me so much.
Isn’t her leaving what I want?
I grip the steering wheel harder.
I had to get away. If she weren’t in my house, I never would’ve considered what I’m doing now.
The email requesting me to meet up has gone unanswered for weeks.
Liam Jones—I seriously doubt that’s his real name—wants to work with me.
He had the balls to reach out like I was running some sort of fucking business and thought it would be a good idea to contact me directly.
I have no idea how he heard of me or how he found me, but I had to get out of the house, away from that bitch I’m forming an addiction to.