Page 30 of Fetch

I gasp as he lets it drop to the floor, revealing his face. The face ofPunk fucking Wilder. Holy hell. Now I remember the black heart tattoo on his hand. “I don’t understand. Earlier, at the record store, and at the club… you tricked me.You lied to me.” I wonder if this would shock me less if I were sober. Or maybe it would just make me angrier.

He licks his lips. “I’ve never lied to you. You heard and saw what you wanted to.” He leans over me and places his hands on either side of my head. “But your body knew what your mind couldn’t figure out.”

Every nerve ending on my skin feels stripped, raw, and delicate like a live wire. I ball my fists into the sheets, clenching the silky fabric to brace myself against the onslaught of sensory overload. “You’ve been stalking me since the party at Joystick.” It’s not a question. I know it in my bones.

He retreats back, taking a seat on the black velvet chair by the window, the one I usually drape my clothes on when I’m too lazy to hang them up. But I was so drunk earlier that they didn’t make it past the floor.

He leans back and spreads his legs. “I noticed you the second you walked in. I watched you all night, wishing I was the straw you puckered your lips around. Craving every inch of you—your throaty laugh, wanting those devilish smirks reserved only for me… desperate to lick the peaches and cream off your skin.”

My stomach knots while my clit spasms. My body is confused, terrified, and turned on. Fuck. “What else happened that night, Punk? What else did you see?”

He takes off his ballcap and runs his long, slender fingers through his dirty-blond strands. “I saw you bolt down the stairs toward the bathrooms. So I followed. I waited. I paced back and forth as more and more women came out. But not you. Women who had gone in after you came out. I knew something wasn’t right.”

The acrid taste of bile coats the back of my throat as I remember that creep’s hands up my skirt. “The line was too long, so I went next door to the gas station,” I murmur.

His hazel eyes darken, narrowing at me. “You shouldn’t have left by yourself.”

My hands tremble and ache as I bunch the bedsheets tighter. “I know.”

“When I threw the back door open, you ran past me so fast… you were in shock. Scared. Distraught. And when I saw the look on that pig’s face, I knew that he violated you… I knew you were mine and that I would brutally slaughter anyone who dares to touch you.”

Shivers crawl up my spine while juices leak from my pussy. He murdered a man in cold blood for me. That death is on both of us. But it doesn’t make me angry or terrified like it should. His behavior is erratic, possessive, and unhinged… and I like it.

“I never believed that he jumped to his death… Thank you.”

He smirks. “That’s what your god does for you, pretty girl. Now it’s time for your holy sacrament.”

My pulse kicks up another notch when he gets up and stalks back over to the bed. “Turn onto your stomach.”

Trembling, I do as he says. I draw in a sharp breath when he skates his fingers up the back of my thighs. “What are you going to do to me?”

He runs his palms over my ass cheeks. “Well, first I’m going to take this plug out. You’ve been such a good girl holding it for me.”

I whimper as his fingers probe my entrance.

“Shhh, relax.” He grips the plug and slowly twists it in circles. “Mmm. Look at that stretch. You’re almost ready for more.”

Spasms burst in my core as he plays with the plug, rotating it from side to side while inching it in and out. “Please…”

He spreads my ass apart. I shiver as I feel the tip of his tongue lash between my cheeks. He grips the plug with his teeth and yanks it out.

A whimper escapes my throat. I miss the feel of it already. The way it rubbed against my tender flesh, stimulating every nerve.

Punk chuckles. “Don’t be sad, pretty girl. Tomorrow, you’re getting a new one. Every day you’ll get a bigger one. I have to break you in first before you can handle my cock.”

“Fuck,” I whimper. My legs shake uncontrollably against the mattress.

He goes back to the chair and sits down. “I brought over some ice cream. I want you to go get it for me.”

I roll over before sitting up. I brace my hands on the side of the bed, my head dizzy. The devious look in his eyes lets me know this is part of the game. The submission.

I start to stand up and he shakes his head. “On your knees, Roxy. You will crawl to the kitchen, get me a bowl of ice cream, and crawl back. Go.Fetch.”

He gets off on humiliating me. And I let him because a sick part of me likes it too. I like the way his gaze hungers for me when I lower myself to the floor. In just a tight white tank top, my ass bare, I crawl across my own bedroom while he sits and watches in silence.

When I get to the kitchen, I stand up just to get the pint of vanilla ice cream out of the freezer, scoop some into a bowl, and grab a spoon.Fuck. I press my forehead against the cold stainless steel of the fridge.How the hell am I going to crawl back with this?

The sight of my pretty girl inching along the floor on her knees stirs something so primal in me I can hardly sit still. She takes her time, balancing on one hand while she pulls herself forward. Every time the metal spoon clanks against the bowl, a tingling pulse sparks down my swollen shaft.

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