Page 52 of Obsession
“Surely, you have some self-preservation. He’ll hurt you if you touch me.”
“Unless you’ve failed to notice, beautiful, he’s locked up in his cell. I’m untouchable in this place.”
“Please, don’t,” I plead when he pushes down on the handle. The door slides open, and I stumble back into the room. Officer Miller follows me step by step, shutting the door behind him and flipping the lock.
“Here’s the thing about favors. I always collect.”
“You’re not listening to me,” I all but shout, skirting around the table to put space between us. “Hammond will kill you.”
Ignoring my warning, he stalks me. “How badly do you want his confession? Badly enough to offer to suck my dick, right? Here’s the thing: there won’t be any more interviews if you don’t drop to your knees like a good little whore.”
My heart sinks to my stomach.
He kills the distance between us in three steps. “The power is in my hands, sweetheart. I can make the interviews stop.”
“You wouldn’t.”
With a tut, he tucks my hair behind my ear and drags his thumb over my bottom lip. He looks at the lipstick left behind and smears it between his fingers. “I’ll do one worse, sweetheart.” His eyes clash with mine. “Not only will the interviews stop, but I’ll throw Hammond into solitary for the remainder of his pathetic little life. Is that what you want? To see him robbed of his daily hour of recreation in the yard? Locked away in a padded, dark room with no windows until we shoot his veins full of poison?”
My breath stutters while I bounce my eyes between his, desperately searching for a hint of humanity.
Nothing.
“You’re a monster.”
Miller makes an agreeing sound. “It’s the survival of the strongest out there. Hammond proved to be the weaker predator.”
Nausea grips my stomach in a tight fist. “It should be you in that cell.”
“It’s time to stop talking, beautiful. Let’s put that pretty mouth to better use.”
“You deserve to die.”
His palm flies out and connects with my cheek in a hard blow. Then he grabs me by my shoulders, his spit flying at my face as he growls, “You either drop to your knees willingly and give me what you offered up freely earlier, or Hammond rots in solitary. I hold all the power here, sweetheart. I decide if he eats or sleeps. Trust me, I’ll make his remaining days miserable if you fuck with me.”
I shove him off and brush my hair out of my face. “Fine. Relax.” My heart thuds painfully in my chest as I lean in, whispering in his ear, “I’ll make it good for you.”
A shiver runs through him, and his grip on my shoulders loosens. I grab his cock through his pants, planting a whisper of a kiss on his neck, just enough to mark him for the reaper.
Dropping to my knees, I peer up at him as he slides his hands through my hair.
This is what my father groomed me for. Only I’m older now and carry one heck of a grudge.
I reach up and slide his zipper down, my vision clouding with hatred. I better make it good for him, because it’s the last blow job he’ll ever get. That thought alone licks a delicious path over my skin before settling between my legs like a promise. Robbie is waiting to see what cards I’ll play.
With a sweet smile that drips insincerity and cruel intent, I place my queen down. Tick. Tock. You’re dead.
I yank his pants and boxers down his hairy thighs and curl my fingers around his thin shaft, ignoring the nausea in my stomach.
“Put it in your mouth.” His grip on my hair turns painful.
I obediently take him into my mouth, sucking him deeply, while gripping the backs of his thighs for support. My head begins to bob in his hands, and I shut everything out. I’m just a warm mouth. Nothing else. I’m just another hole for him to stick his dick inside. I’m not here.
“Oh fuck,” he growls, thrusting his hips. “That’s it. Who knew you were this dirty?”
I did.
I know exactly how dirty I am.
