Page 31 of Emerald

I want him to touch me.

I want him to take me.

He takes a blindfold from his bag and covers my eyes, plunging me into darkness. I feel more vulnerable than ever. Instantly my sensations are heightened. I can feel the slightest breeze across my bare skin. I’m hyper-aware of the heavy tread of his footsteps circling me.

He’s prowling around me, deliberately disorienting me.

He’s close, but not quite touching me.

Not yet.

“First question,” he says, in that rough, deep voice. “Where’s the tunnel that let you into my house?”

I bite my bottom lip, trying to decide whether I should tell him or not. I wanted to keep my escape route clear. But unfortunately, now that he knows the passageway exists, it’s only a matter of time until he finds it. Trying to keep the information to myself is hopeless.

“It starts in a well, on the north side of the property, just outside the walls,” I tell him. “It comes out in your boiler room.”

“Good,” Ivan says. His voice is like the tongue of a beast lapping at my skin—rough and soft at the same time.

I feel his huge hand caressing my left breast. His palm cups the bottom of my breast, and his thumb slides across the nipple.

I can’t help but let out a groan of pleasure. Oh my god, I can’t even control myself for five seconds. At his very first touch I’m moaning like a whore.

I tell myself that I won’t make another sound. I’ll pretend not to like it, no matter what he does.

But his hand is sliding down the curve of my side, down to my hip, and then across my navel, below the bellybutton. And now he’s slipping his fingers inside my panties, all the way down to my pussy lips. I’m already breaking the promise I made, I’m already letting out little gasps and moans of encouragement as he rubs his fingers back and forth across my clit, moistened with my own wetness.

All too soon, he pulls his hand away. I can’t see anything, but I have the sneaking suspicion that he’s put his fingers to his lips, to taste me.

Nothing has ever prepared me for this.

If this is his interrogation, he’s going to have my social security number in five minutes.

“You like that, littlelisa,”he says. It’s not a question. He knows that I love it. “See,” he says, “It’s better to be friends than enemies, don’t you think?”

I’m ready to be his best friend if he’ll keep touching me like that.

“Next question,” he says. “Who’s your broker?”

Uh oh.

I really don’t know the answer to that.

I have a little information about him, but nothing I want to share with Ivan.

“I told you, I don’t know,” I tell him, trying to make my tone as sincere as possible.

“You did tell me that,” Ivan says. “But I’m afraid I don’t quite believe you.”

I can hear him moving off to my right. I hear the distinct sound of objects shifting about as he rummages around in his leather bag.

My heart rate, already on par with a fast jog, speeds up to an absolute sprint.

He’s coming around behind me.

I hear the whistle of air, and then a sharp CRACK as he swings something toward me. I hear the sound, and then I feel the sting of a leather crop coming down hard on my ass.

“Ouch!” I yell, trying to twist around.