Page 66 of Stolen

“Well, look at you," he sneered, leaning back in his chair while that dark gaze licked at my skin. "Submission is really an adorable look for you.”

I exhaled slowly and quietly, ignoring the bait he so openly dangled in front of me. He seemed to be in a considerably good mood at least after killing an innocent girl only just yesterday. But after the bloodshed I’d already seen him so casually create, I couldn’t be surprised anymore.

“Come here, little slave,” he commanded, crooking a finger at me. “I want to test your obedience. Make sure you haven’t forgotten any recent lessons.”

Sure, he does.

I started to rise, but he shook his head and stopped me.

“Crawl,” he ordered.

This bitch.

Begrudgingly, I leaned forward onto my hands and knees and slowly crawled my sore and sorry ass around his desk like the worthless animal I was. The owner then spun his chair around to me when I closed the distance, kneeling in front of him.

His eyes glazed over me with an intensity that made me want to run far away where they could never find me, but that was just silly wishful thinking. Instead, I sat there, burning under his watch as the smirk on his face corrupted what should have been butterflies in my stomach into a stampede of elephants.

Without warning, he swiftly leaned forward from his chair, the sudden movement almost causing me to flinch in reflex. I then found myself staring back at a grave predator, the kind that made your blood run cold until your muscles locked tight, creating the terror of complete immobility. This man was capable of so much horror, so much brutality, and he did it all with visible pleasure and practiced ease.

It surprised me when he lifted his hand to gently grasp the side of my face, the warmth of his skin against mine causing a thermal reaction I wanted to ignore. His thumb carefully rubbed across one of the yellow healing bruises that stained my upper right cheek, the intensity of his stare increasing as he scrutinized my colored flesh. And then he sighed to himself.

“You are so sexy when you crawl like that,” he stated.

Random.

I didn’t react, denying him the satisfaction of making me squirm.

Which of course was a mistake. Because the next thing I knew, he was lifting my body with such ease and speed, my ass hit the wood of his desk before I’d realized I’d even left the floor.

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as he spread my legs wide to accommodate the width of his hips, cooling the anxious heat growing between my legs. Jesus, he was so tall from this position, my nose nearly touching the top of his abdomen, making me feel like a child to a giant.

With my fists clenched at my sides, I could feel how stiff my body was, coiled tight in anticipation of whatever savage act he wanted to bless me with. And it did not go unnoticed.

“Why so tense, little slave? I haven’t even done anything yet,” he questioned, his lips curving in a shark-like smile.

“I’m trying to be patient,” I answered with a glare.

He chuckled lightly to himself before bringing his massive hands to my bare shoulders and began to gently massage them.

“Relax, breathe. No need to get ahead of yourself.”

Fighting back the initial disgust, the heat of his skin on mine felt like scalding rocks, but with each movement of his expert fingers, my muscles couldn’t help but enjoy the release in tension. His thumbs circled the sides of my neck while his fingers dug into the knots of my shoulder blades, the pressure he created feeling so incredibly good I almost lost my will to control the moans ready to burst from my mouth.

And then I wondered if now was a good time to reward him for it.

Fuck my life.

Giving in to both our desires, I released a deep breath and relaxed my entire upper body, allowing his ministrations to penetrate even deeper for my benefit. As much as I hated and feared this man with every fiber of my being, if this was the attention he wanted to give me, then I would take it knowing damn well what my alternative would likely be.

Some few moments later, his hands traveled from my shoulders to cup my face, tilting my head up so he could look down at me. But the softness in his eyes was not what I expected to find. And it made my stomach flutter.

“Better?” he asked, his voice gentle with genuine interest.

Time to grovel.

“Yes, thank you.”

A ghost of a smile captured his lips. “You’re welcome.”

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