Page 37 of His Toy

CHAPTER 10

Zaid

I lifted Heather to her feet. A wave of shock crossed her face, her bottom lip lowered in anticipation. Damn it, Heather. She knew what she did to me. And I wanted more: more of Heather’s stunned surprise, more of her wanting eyes, more of her craving to fall deeper, to go further than she ever dreamed of. I led her back to the entrance lobby. I sent a quick text to Grant, letting him know the plan; he would take care of Marcus. I had other, more important things to attend to.

In the elevator, I scanned my card, then punched in the number for the penthouse. The elevator doors closed, the compartment moved quickly.

“We’re done in there?” she asked.

It was something like that.

The elevator stopped. As the doors slid open, I ushered Heather towards a door, another keypad illuminated beneath the doorknob. I scanned my card again, and we were met with the click of the bolts unlocking.

A short hallway led to an open seating area, with modern furniture, tasteful paintings, and a panoramic view of the Strip. Heather was drawn to it. She walked to the window, placing her hands on the glass, as if she could watch the city dissolve into nothingness, safe from the hatred in the world. If we had been in another world, her dress would have been gray-blue, bringing out her eyes, and the lights from the Strip would have made her glow. But we were in a world where I needed her to blend in. To follow orders. To fall into place. All of this to keep her safe.

Even in a subdued, but elegant dress, she was beautiful. Her luscious curves. Her plump bottom lip. Those dewy eyes. The view of the Strip couldn’t compete with Heather.

After a moment, she looked at her hands, realizing she’d smudged the window’s glass.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Why did she think to apologize for something so trivial? She turned back to the view, and the delicate lighting captured her, the curve of her back, the dress tight against her, showing off her body. The hint of bruises on her ass. Marks I had given her. I drew closer to her.

“Hands against the glass,” I said, “Hips back. Spine arched.”

She did as she was told. Placing a hand on top of hers, I moved them further apart, as if to search her, spreading her wider, then let one hand trace down to her waist, to her hips. I pulled her closer to me, and fuck, she knew she had me. She wiggled her ass, rubbing me, teasing me. My cock hardened. I sucked in a breath.

“Let me repeat myself,” I growled in her ear. “The things I would do to you, given the chance. I would use you. Hurt you. Make you beg to come. And when you are at the edge of insanity, losing yourself to the abyss, you will say my name. Tell me that I own you. That all you are, is mine.” A breath caught in her chest, her quiver subtle. “And what did you say to me?” I bit her neck and she moaned, sinking into my grasp. I slammed her hands back onto the window. “What was your answer?”

“This is your chance,” she whispered.

“Do you still feel that way?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you submit yourself to my demands?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”

She opened her eyes, almost delirious as she leaned her head back on my shoulder. “No, sir.”

“And yet you still surrender yourself to me.”

I stepped back, letting her catch her balance. She straightened herself, hands still on the glass, her back arched, like a good toy.

And for this small moment, she was my toy

It had been years since I had been with a woman who I truly desired. Her lips, her ass, her hands on me, a woman I wanted to devour, heart and soul, to both build her into something new, a toy made to please me, but to leave everything she had inside of her, because Heather was a woman who was instinctual, who was loyal, who knew what she wanted, and when the world left her in complete serenity, all she wanted was to please me.

And for a moment, I would give her that.

I traced a hand along her back, her exposed skin cool on my palm. The slight movement showed that she welcomed the warmth of my touch. Then my hand found the smooth curve of her ass. I squeezed it.

“Is this training to you, Heather?”

It was a bold move to use her name, not the term I had given her,toy. But I wanted her to know that she had a choice in this. She may have had an obligation to her sister, but this? This wasn’t training. This was a choice. I wanted to own her, but this wasn’t about that.