The fabric becomes wet and sticky with my precum. I stop toying with my cockhead and wrap my fist around the length again. I jerk in slowly, long pulls from base to tip. I don’t even try to hold back the grunts that escape me. Let her hear. Let her get out of bed. Let her peek around the curtain and see what I’m doing.
My lids fall heavy, but not closed. I’m seeing it in my mind. Her curvy body covered in only that sweater. Her shoulder and tit exposed because the neckline has slid down her arm. Her pussy gets wet as she watches me stroking myself. She doesn’t know that I’m getting myself off to thoughts of her or using her panties, but that makes it more of a thrill for me. She can’t stop herself from slipping those long fingers into her soaking pussy, her clit throbbing, her lips swollen.
My movements speed up. My free hand has a death grip on the arm of the chair as I start to jerk my hips up, fucking into my tight grip.
I let the fantasy play out in my mind.
Curiosity gets to her, and she steps out of her room. She makes it all the way around before she sees me, really sees me, and what I’m doing. Her eyes lock with mine, and I don’t even try to hide the dark lust clouding my gaze. Her cheeks tint pink as she spins and dashes back across the gallery.
“Run, little doe,” I say, imagining myself chasing after her.
I come with a long, gravelly moan, spilling my cum into her panties.
Fuck.
I go limp in the chair, the panties and my fist still wrapped around my softening cock.
Fuck.
That seems to be the only word my mind can come up with.
My dick twitches when I imagine making her wear these panties all soiled with my cum, despite the fact that I’m holding nothing more than a shredded scrap of fabric.
Yeah, I need to get this shit under control.
TWELVE
Astra
I meet Lucille when she comes to fetch me for breakfast. She’s a lovely older woman with a no-nonsense smile. I choose to eat in the courtyard, and for some reason, it she sends me a pleased look about it.
She sets out a French coffee press, which I only know how to use as of recently, and a mini spread of breakfast foods. I grab the chocolate chip muffin without hesitation.
Donovan comes out just as I’m finishing up, and I don’t miss the big muscle man wearing a sapphire blue button-down shirt and charcoal-colored slacks walking in his shadow. Donovan’s face shows no emotion, which doesn’t surprise me.
He informs me I’m to go out, and I’m to get things I need to be comfortable.
What the heck does that mean? I don’t know. Clothes, I would assume.
He turns to the muscle man and hands him a wad of cash without even flinching. My eyes are instantly drawn to the few inches of skin that’s revealed when the new guy reaches for the money, more specifically, the image of a coiled snake inked around his wrist.
Donovan proceeds to tell the man to make sure I’m taken care of. Without a glance back at me, Donovan turns and walks off. His tone didn’t show any joy when saying he wanted metaken care of, and it makes me worry for a couple of minutes. Big guy doesn’t come at me like he’s going to kill me and dump my body somewhere no one will find it, so I try to relax.
Wait, what? Donovan is letting me out!
I’m really surprised. Yes, I have an escort, but Donovan is still letting me go. I’m not exactly his prisoner, but I’m not surewhatI am.
Torrin promised he’d work his magic, and I guess he did. I really wish I could have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. I imagine there would have been a lot of scowling from Donovan.
Turning my attention to Mr. Muscles, I flash a smile. This is awkward. I recognize him from the alleyway yesterday when Donovan kidnapped me, but I don’t know his name. He’s one of Donovan’s men, clearly, which means I don’t have a chance of gaining any sympathy and getting him to let me go.
Not that I would go.
Strangely, I feel safer with Donovan than I do with the man who is my father.
I stand, wearing yesterday’s clothes. Which includes a stretched-out sweater. With as much dignity and poise as I can muster, I do my best not to look like a hot mess.
“I’m Astra,” I tell the big muscle, going for a less forced, awkward smile this time.
