Page 72 of Under the Bed

Soon, she’ll realize this isn’t what this is about. That it’s all a game.

Soon, she’ll realize that I could never hate her.

I know who’s truly to blame for everything we’ve gone through.

Ronan Talbot. Her father.

The torture, orgasms, and every ounce of my attention—that’s not punishment.

My depraved, repressed sexual needs aren’t anything like my violent impulses. They might look and sound similar, but in reality, they’re two polar opposites.

The most glaring one is, I don’t want Shiloh dead.

Why would I ever want her gone? She’s perfect for me.

Beautiful and vulnerable in her drug-induced sleep. Full lips parted. Thick eyelashes fanning over her cheeks. Her body was meant to be defiled by me.

Her soul is the only one I’ve been desperate to learn. To understand.

To…

Love? Is that what it is?

Never mind.

Tonight, I have her.

She’s tempting and hot and mine.

Her clothes have to go. I tear them off her. Toss most of them aside. Put her underwear to good use. As in using her panties to bind her.

One wrist is tied to the metal headboard by her black bra, the other by her black panties.

I’m drawn to her legs, pushing them apart. Running my knuckles over her knees. The inside of her thighs.

The soft glow of the lamp on her nightstand has shadows and highlights playing on her naked body. It’s how I see her beautiful, bare pussy.

A sweet temptation.

The part of her I’ll destroy first. Once she’s conscious again.

Until then, time to play. Time to make her wet while she’s knocked out.

She’ll be humiliated when she wakes up.

She hated coming for me when I forced myself on her. When she found out whose finger I’d left on her nightstand, she was pissed off and nervous. The cadence of her voice when she spoke to Val—her call records showed that it was the last person she had spoken to—over the phone betrayed those emotions.

So waking up to this? Soaked and upset? Confused as all fuck?

I can’t fucking wait to see her face.

I can’t wait to touch her.

First, though, I head over to her closet. Take out a black thong and return to the side of her bed. With the thin fabric clutched in my hand and my cock about to tear through my jeans, I rip my mask off.

I put her thong to the side and bend to drag my tongue over her nipple. Getting it hard and wet and fucking beautiful for me. The taste and feel of her. I’m groaning with how much I need her.

Still, I need more. I need all of her.

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