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“That’s better,” he remarks almost placidly. “Keep your fucking eyes on me. I want you to see who’s touching you.”
I take a breath and try to slow my racing heart. I need to stay calm and rational. Ryker is coming, I know he is. I just need to hold on until he gets here.
“What are you planning to do with me?” I ask.
The smile he gives me is almost boyish, and it’s even more creepy than the possessive look he gave me earlier.
“Anything I want because you belong to me now.”
He removes his hand from between my legs, and my body sags against the mattress. I’m actually grateful when he slides it up my stomach. But then he pauses on my lower belly, and I go rigid when he applies light pressure.
“I fucking hate that thing growing inside you.” Aversion twists his features. “If it weren’t for my promise to Dad, I’d cut it out.”
Ignoring the fear that’s trying to short-circuit my thought process, I focus on what he just said to try to distract him.
“Your dad? Antonio, right? Everyone believes he’s dead.” Everyone except Ryker.
His gaze flickers up to mine, and his hand moves away from my lower stomach. He slides it up my torso. When he reaches between my breasts, he veers to the right, cupping one of them.
“Not Antonio. The man who took me. He’s my dad.”
My voice shakes when I ask, “Why would you promise him anything if he’s the one who stole you from your family?”
“Because if I don’t, he’ll punish me by taking you away. I let Lili and Harper go only because he promised me you.” Aiden tweaks my nipple between his fingers, twisting it roughly. “I waited too fucking long for Ryker to finally take a wife. For him to care about something enough to suffer once he loses it.”
He removes his hand and gets up. I watch with trepidation as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a muscular chest only slightly smaller than Ryker’s, but lacking the beautiful tattoos my husband has. That fear builds when his hands go to his pants and triples when they fall to the floor. His hard dick bounces when he gets on the bed and straddles my waist.
“What are you doing?” I ask, that panic I managed to push aside, coming back tenfold. I buck beneath him, trying to shove him off, but he goes nowhere. “Get off!”
“I can’t fuck your pussy yet. Or rather, Ican, but I won’t until Ryker gets here to see it.” He palms his length, sliding his hand up and down. “But I’m going to fuck something and that mouth of yours looks really fucking tempting.”
He knees his way up my torso until his ass rests on my chest. I turn my face away when his dick gets too close. I don’t want that thing anywhere near me.
“You just couldn’t wait, could you?”
We both jerk our heads toward the door at the new voice. A man, probably in his mid-fifties, comes strolling in. He’s immaculately dressed in a black suit and tie, and you can tell justfrom a simple glance that it’s expensive. Dark-brown hair, with sprinkles of silver along the sides, is slicked back, and his face is cleanly shaved. He’s tall and his body is lean.
This must be the ‘father’ Aiden spoke of.
His body goes rigid above mine. That both scares me and sends a sliver of satisfaction through me. This new man obviously makes Aiden uneasy, and I’m all for the man sitting on my chest feeling anxious. But then again, if his father makes him feel that way, that means he’s probably worse than his son, right?
“Get out,” Aiden barks.
The man laughs. “You know that won’t be happening. But don’t let my arrival stop you.” He flicks his hand in our direction. “Proceed.”
He walks to the chair Aiden was sitting in and brings it closer to the bed. When he sits, he’s so close that his knees nearly touch the mattress. His gaze is rapt as he takes in my bound form with Aiden on top of me. The lecherous look has my stomach churning.
I look up at Aiden. His jaw twitches, and he clearly doesn’t like his father in the room.
“Go ahead. Fuck her mouth, son,” his father demands. “I want to watch as you stretch it wide open.”
The small hope I had that he wouldn’t continue is dashed away when Aiden looks down at me. His eyes are on fire with pure, unadulterated lust. He licks his lips, like a dog presented with a juicy steak.
“Please,” I beg, hoping to cater to some part of him that still has to be good. People aren’t inherently bad. They develop that trait over time by action and life circumstances. Even if it’s minuscule, there still has to be a small part of him that knows this is wrong and sick. “Don’t do this.”
He pinches my jaw with unforgiving fingers and leers down at me. “I like you begging,” he taunts. “And it makes my dick harder knowing those pleasaren’tbecause you want it. I’m going to fuck your mouth and make you choke on my cock until you have tears flooding down your cheeks.” His fingers tighten so much I’m forced to open my mouth or have the inside of my cheek split open. “And the best part is the disgust you’ll feel knowing it’s nothisdick taking that throat.”
He lets my jaw go and grabs the root of his dick. I clamp my lips shut and glare at him defiantly. I kill him ten different ways with my eyes, and I hope he feels every single one.