“Now.” Flipping her around, I shove her against the wall and drop to my knees. “Do you need your pussy licked by Daddy?”
She gives in with a soft, “I do.”
Her cries echo around us a minute later.
ELEVEN
MOLLY
Yesterday,Alexander pampered me. I spent the entire day half expecting him to jump me and fuck me multiple times like he did the previous night. I stubbornly ignore the disappointment I felt when he didn’t.
He was his charming and caring self that I almost forgot he was keeping me hostage. That there is no end to his madness. The deal sounds too good to be true.
A trap.
However, what choice do I have but to play along?
Today, I’m blindfolded and being led down the hallway.
“Where are you taking me?” He doesn’t reply, heightening the suspense. “Alexander?”
God! Am I making a mistake in trusting him?
The next second, we pause and I hear a door creak open. He urges me forward, stepping inside it. My bare feet tense at the rough texture of the floor, unlike the smooth tiled one outside.
“A-Alex?”
His fingers brush along my neck, sending an electric shiver down my spine. He unties my blindfold, letting it free-fall. Iblink my eyes open, adjusting to the semi-darkness, and gauge my surroundings.
I gasp, staring at the room and stumbling back in fear. I collide with his torso, stuttering, “What is this?”
“A basement fit for my gorgeous prisoner,” he drawls sinisterly. “With a cage to keep my little bird trapped.”
My eyes fly to the human-sized cage in the corner, with a mattress inside. There’s a cot right across it with a thin mattress. The headboard has built-in cuffs that look terrifying. There are two more at the foot of the bed.
If the bedroom was heaven, this room is hell.
A medieval BDSM dungeon, conjured straight from my wet dreams.
I cannot believe it was right down the hall. Or that Alexander customized it in under a week to fulfill my fantasies. It wasn’t just my personal diary he stole.
He knows my other secret, too.
My smutty story that I secretly wrote a long time ago.
A gateway to my secret desires.
I turn around, jabbing my finger in his chest. “You broke into my house, didn’t you?” He shrugs. “Jesus! It’s ironic how many laws you’re breaking for a sheriff.”
Also weirdly flattering.
You’re going mental, Molly.
In the five years Matt and I have been dating, he hasn’t put one-fourth of the effort or done grand gestures that his father has done in less than twenty-four hours.
Passion and madness are what I’ve secretly yearned for in my partner. A chemistry that tethers two souls together. An instant connection.
The kind Alexander and I experienced the moment we locked eyes on that highway.
