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I picture her there, ear to the wall, nightgown pushed up her thighs, chest heaving in anticipation of what Nick will do next. With my back against the wall and knees spread wide, I sink deeper into my imagination.

Of all the situations I’ve found myself in, I never imagined I’d wind up chained to a floor, trading dirty stories with a girl whose bikini-clad image has fueled the wet dreams of countless men.

There are certainly worse ways to pass the time…

“Answer me, Chloe.” Tipping my voice to a dangerous pitch, I let the demand hang there. Every word of this conversation is a dare. Everly claims she isn’t intimidated by sex, so let’s test those boundaries, shall we?

Fuck yes, I’m going to have fun with this.

A hum full of dark promises resonates in my throat. “Why do you think he has her tied ass up?”

“Oh.” A breathy sound falls from her.

“That’s right.” My fingers curl into my thighs. “Nick knows what to do with a girl like Chloe…a girl who’s spent years dreaming of a man who knows how to handle her.”

I allow myself a moment to imagine handling her. That smooth, bare skin; the way I could make it heat beneath my hands. The colors it would turn with every pinch and slap and rough caress. I might not have much to offer emotionally, but I have no problem giving a lady a quick and dirty foray into her darkest fantasies.

She says nothing, so I keep going, letting my mind wander out loud. “Behind her, he kneels between her spread legs, running a hand over her ass. Then, his fingers dip lower to find out if the anticipation has made her wet for him.”

She’s got to be pent-up after all this time.

“Has it, Everly?” I can’t resist asking. “Is Chloe wet for him?

“Maybe…a little.” Her pitch is lower in a way that blends sultry heat with just a hint of shyness. I can practically hear the blush rising to her cheeks. “Yeah.”

Perfect.

“A little, huh?” I chuckle. “Okay then. He rubs his fingers through that wet place until she’s squirming, then he reaches forward, grabbing a fistful of her hair and twining it around his fingers, pulling until she’s arched backward as far as the ties on her wrists will allow. ‘ You still haven’t answered me,’ he whispers, then unleashes a series of slaps to her ass and thighs. Hard and fast.”

There’s no response from the girl next door. I almost wonder if I took it too far, but no , I feel her there, hanging on every word, hoping I’ll voice the unfulfilled desires she’s been harboring.

And oh, do I plan to.

Fuck, is it getting hotter in here? I shift my position, stretching my legs, but it does nothing to alleviate the painful tent in my pants.

“Still with me, Bee?”

“Don’t stop.” The urgency in her voice makes my dick even harder.

If we were anywhere but here, I’d have my face between her thighs, making her come over and over while she yanked on my hair and screamed, “ Don’t stop, don’t stop .”

Fuck. I blow out a breath and reel my imagination in. My capabilities are limited here. I need to stay in control.

“Isaac.” Three desperate knocks vibrate against my back. I smile to myself; she’s just as hot and bothered as I am.

“When tears begin to stream down Chloe’s pretty face and she cries, ‘ Please Nick, please ,’ he knows what she’s really begging for.”

“More.” The answer comes without hesitation.

“That’s right.” I angle my face toward the girl behind the wall, careful not to allow whoever may be on the other side of the camera to see how much I’m enjoying myself. “There’s something Chloe needs to remember, though.”

“And that is?”

My tone goes to a hard, dark place. “Nick doesn’t take orders.”

“What does he do?”

“He keeps going until her skin is fiery red, beautifully decorated with swollen handprints. And while she’s gasping and crying, her eyes hold this glassy, exhilarated look that betrays her. That’s how he knows she secretly loves it.”

A sound comes from the other side of the wall, accompanied by a soft thunk that hints of her head resting there, and I know I’ve hit the mark.

I keep going.

“Warning her not to move, he unties her arms and legs from the posts. She shudders at the sound of his belt zipping through the loops as he pulls it off.”

I swear I hear her whimper.

Fuck, I wish I could order her to take her panties off, spread her legs, and touch herself for me. But this isn’t the place for that, and I won’t ask her to.

“ Please ,” she begs .

God, the things I could do to this woman.

I imagine her, plastered to the barrier, her thighs pressed together, muscles clenching in a poor imitation of what she really needs. Right now, I could command her to take two fingers, push them inside her tight heat, then pull them out and bring them to her lips. Taste the evidence of what I’m doing to her. The image alone has me swallowing a groan.

Shit, how far are we going with this?

There are several reasons why it might be wise to quit before either of us takes it much further, but since I can’t currently find it in me to give a fuck, I continue. “Nick waits until she’s whimpering, then leans down and licks the path of tears from her chin to her cheek. ‘Be good,’ he warns her, reaching down to pinch a nipple, hard enough to make her squeal.” I toss the next move to Everly, curious whether I’m pushing things too far. “Can you do that, Everly?” I ask. “Can you be a good girl for me?”

I catch my slip—the blur between characters in a story, and what we’re really doing—but I don’t bother fixing it.

“I’ll be good,” she promises, not missing a beat.

“That’s my girl.” I reach down and adjust myself, trying to be covert about it. Maybe I overestimated how much I could take. If she keeps this up, I’ll be ripping this wall down with my bare hands, consequences be damned. “If she really pleases him, maybe she’ll earn herself a reward.”

“What does she have to do…to please him?” The words turn into a sultry purr that makes every muscle in my lower body tighten.

Fucking hell.

“Whatever he fucking tells her to.” I pause, just long enough to get a hold of myself. Wherever this ends up going, I need to stay in control. Of both of us. I plot Nick’s next move, playing it all out like a movie in my head. “Moving down to the end of the bed, he clasps his hands around her ankles, sliding them up her legs, to her soft thighs. Kneeling between them, he grasps her by the hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. When she winces, he gives her a devious smile. She should know better than to encourage him.”

“Oh, my God,” she says. “You’re really good at this. Way better than my books.”

“You’re interrupting.” My correction is hard as steel—much like my tortured cock.

Now I’m the one whose lips are curling into a devious smile. “Catching her off guard, Nick grabs her by the back of the thighs, pushes them straight back to her chest, and smacks her already sore ass.”

“For complimenting you?”

“Disobedience has consequences, Bee.”

Now, as much as I’m enjoying this, it’s about time to get to the proverbial climax before I lose it.

“Once he’s sure Chloe remembers who’s in charge, Nick lowers her legs just enough to bend her knees, keeping them tucked up to her chest and spreading them far apart. He bends down and runs his tongue up the inside of one trembling thigh, then the other, and finally through the center, back to front, until she’s thrusting her hips into the air and crying for more.”

I stop a moment to let the desperation build. Holy fuck, I can practically taste her on my tongue, salty and feminine. Liquid sweetness. Wet and ready for me.

“Keep going.” Her voice is full of throaty need; it’s making me sweat.

“He’s…contemplating,” I tell her.

“Contemplating what?”

“Where to stuff his cock. Should he make her choke on it? Or…”

She chokes. Literally. Well, maybe it’s more of a cough, but it makes me chuckle.

“Chloe would probably be okay with that.”

“Oh, I know she would, sweetheart, but good things come to those who wait. Right now, Nick has other plans. Letting her legs go, he runs his tongue along her naked body, headed for those gorgeous tits, taking them in his mouth one at a time, giving each nipple a tug between his teeth, as his hand closes around her throat.”

My dick pulses, knowing the only action it’s getting is through this goddamn story.

“Settling his knees on either side of her chest, he straddles her. ‘You’re fucking beautiful, all wrecked for me like this,’ he tells her, running his thumb along her pulse. ‘Now take my cock out.’”

I’m debating whether to edge her until she’s begging or to bring Nick and Chloe’s bedtime story to its conclusion when she jumps in again.

“What does his body look like?” she wonders. “Without clothing, I mean.”

Christ, I wish I could turn her over my knee right now. “You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” she draws the word out. “Does he have tattoos?”

“She doesn’t know. He stays fully clothed, only letting her take his sizable cock out of his pants. Chloe will have to use her imagination on the rest…for now.”

Hey, at least I didn’t use the words “steel pipe.”

She takes the bait. “Exactly how sizable are we talking here?”

“I don’t know, should we find a ruler? There must be one over here somewhere. Oh wait, you’re the one with the stash of random objects.”

“I meant Nick’s.”

“Mmhmm.” Like we’re still pretending they aren’t one and the same. “Maybe I’ll find another use for that ruler.”

She slaps the wall, equally amused and frustrated. “Come on, throw me a bone here.”

My shoulders shake with laughter. “That’s the plan.” Instinctively, I look down to where I’m about to bust through my zipper. “To answer your question, it’s much thicker than most. Above average in length, as well. I don’t think Chloe will be disappointed.”

“Chloe can handle that.”

“Oh, she’ll handle that all right. But she’ll have to take it slow first—if Nick decides to give her that option. It all depends on whether she keeps interrupting.”

“Maybe she’s doing it on purpose.” I can tell she’s grinning by the way the words pinch at the edges.

“Both Nick and I are aware of what she’s doing, and she’ll pay for that later. Right now, he stretches out so he’s hovering over her, his hips flush with hers, her legs spread wide. Lowering his mouth to her neck, he whispers, ‘You think you’ve earned this, sweetheart?’”

“She does,” she says on a breath.

“Nick bites down on the curve where her neck and shoulder meet, hard, thrusting his cock into that tight heat at the same time. He isn’t gentle, and she doesn’t want him to be.”

Her nails scratch down the wall slowly; I can imagine them doing the same to my back, and fuck, it’s almost enough to make me blow, hands free.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Fine,” she says on an audible exhale. “Does he make her orgasm?”

“Let’s just say he knows how to make her scream so hard she’ll forget her name, and his. Multiple times.”

“That sounds…”

“Like what she’s been missing?”

A long pause, then, “Yeah.”

“He knows.”

I debate detailing the climax, wondering how ragged her breaths would get, how deeply she would flush, how her thighs would press together as she imagines Chloe getting thoroughly railed by Nick. But if I go too much further, I’m either going to be sitting here with my dick in my hand in front of the cameras, or I’m going to bed with blue balls.

And Everly…all I can think about is Roger watching, able to tell how turned on she is right now, and something about that doesn’t sit right. In fact, it kind of makes me want to rip his head off with my bare hands.

In the end, I let us both off the hook.

“When she wakes up in the morning, she’s alone. But just as she’s beginning to wonder if she dreamt the entire thing, she notices something sitting on her bedside table.”

“What is it?”

“A glass of cranberry juice. Just like she requested. No longer cold, though. Can Chloe live with room-temperature cranberry juice after being fucked so hard she passed out from exhaustion?”

“Yeah,” she says on an exhale. “I think she’ll be all right.”

I, on the other hand, am very close to not being all right. “Of course she will. Chloe’s a good girl.”

With my head resting on the other side of the wall where she sits, I feel my eyes wanting to close. There are so many more things I’d do, if I could, but this will have to hold us. “You can relax now, Bee; it’s time to get some sleep.”

She hesitates but doesn’t argue. “Okay. Goodnight, Ni—Isaac.”

“Sweet dreams,” I tell her, not bothering to keep the suggestion out of my tone.

I roll over on the cot, fully prepared to dream about busting my way through this wall and finishing what Nick started.

Her voice carries over to me one last time:

“See you soon.”

I wake to the incessant glare of fluorescent lights. There’s a fog in my head that comes from the kind of deep sleep I haven’t had since I can remember, and an ache in my balls that reminds me of the trip to an erotic fantasyland I took Everly on last night.

Gotta say, that was the last conversation I’d ever expect to have while being held captive by a twisted black-market ring, but no complaints.

I roll over and lay my hand on the wall. “You awake over there, Bee?”

“It’s late,” she answers. “Breakfast has come and gone, and I’ve been busy for hours.”

“Busy, eh?” I can’t help but chuckle at the innuendo running through my filthy mind. “You shouldn’t do that. Not with eyes on you constantly.” The camera in the corner looms like a threat.

“Oh, my God, give me some credit, will you?”

“I don’t know, you sounded pretty worked up last night. Thought you might have woken up and decided to blow off some steam.”

“Who’s to blame for that?” Thinly veiled laughter weaves through feigned annoyance. “And if I really wanted to blow off some steam , as you say, I’d pull up my blanket and no one would be the wiser. Don’t worry, I’m not over here putting on a show for the voyeurs.”

“I’m jealous of your blanket right now. It’s fucking freezing in here.”

“Yeah, well, you’d probably figure out how to kill someone with said blanket, and they know it. I only got mine once I convinced them I had too much will to live to commit suicide.”

“Fair enough. So, what’s been keeping you busy for hours?”

“Strategy. Plans. I’m not creative like you, but I’m trying. I’ve memorized the entry code to the door, in case it ever comes in handy.”

“Smart girl.” I’ve gone too long without a proper strategy, and it’s time to get creative. “I think it’s about time we took inventory of all our options.”

“I’m not strangling Roger with a blanket.”

“Nah, his neck is too thick. Unless you can trip him with it and hope he cracks his head open falling, having you take out the ogre isn’t on my list.”

But that doesn’t mean we can’t still use him…

“I need to know what we have to work with first, then we can look at how .”

“There’s a barrette. I considered using it as a weapon at one point when that awful nurse came in to give me an injection. Thought about jabbing her in the eye.”

“There’s a thought.” The visual of Everly scooping out the bitchy nurse’s eyeball is mildly entertaining.

“I’m glad you find that funny. I had nightmares for a week thinking about it. Eventually, I decided it was more likely to get me killed.”

She’s not wrong. And while I might be able to make a tool like that work in my favor, expecting Everly to turn into a deadly assassin by way of hair accessories is probably something that works better in movies.

“All right, let’s come back to that one. What else? Anything metal? Sharp objects?”

“Let’s see.”

She begins rifling through her collection, and for a long time, we get lost discussing her treasure trove of the dead.

Maybe, if we’re lucky, one of them can help us.