One hiccup. Two hiccups. A sniff.
With my ear pressed against her door, I can hear every sound, every breath.
I can’t stop biting my lip as I listen, wondering what she’s doing right now. Something muffles her cries, a pillow perhaps. I imagine her hugging it tight as she curls up on my guest bed … her bed. In her room. The room I gave her as a prison to stay in.
I shouldn’t be here.
But I can’t stay away either. Wherever she is, I’ve always wanted to follow. It’s what drove me to her in the first place, what made me take her away from her father.
She’s right. I’m a cruel monster who only cares about his own desires. But a part of me, somewhere deep inside, wishes for something else too. Something … better. Something real.
But we can’t have that. We never could and never will.
Not when she’s my hostage, someone I keep in a soft and velvety cage for my selfish needs.
My hand lingers on the wood, nails digging in as my heart sinks into my shoes. I’m fighting the urge to unlock the door and go inside.
I have no place in her room. Not after taunting her to the brink of despair. Did I go too far? The knife and fork were only a game—a way to toy with her emotions—but the sight of her obeying me filled me with such power that it consumed me and made me lash out. I wanted her to eat that cake until she was full and then sink to her knees and take my cock as a second dessert.
But that was a filthy dream of mine. Nothing more.
I should’ve known my fantasies would interfere with my ability to reason. I couldn’t keep my cool and made her face the rage inside me. Of course, she’s upset.
I close my eyes and let out a sigh. I don’t want to be this mean. I want to make her happy.
But I want her to suffer too, and those wishes clash like hell. I want her to know what it did to me when she chose to deny me and chose her goddamn father over me. That fucking arrogant son of a bitch who didn’t even love her … who ruined her for me.
Who worked my father to death … literally.
Taking in a deep breath, I lean away from the door and stare at it for a few seconds. Then I turn around and walk away. But there will come a time when I won’t be able to keep that door locked. When I won’t stop myself from touching her … from kissing her. And that day will be here sooner than she thinks.
avid reader and writer of swoony stories about dangerous men and feisty women.
Her other loves include her hilarious husband, her two crazy but cute dogs, and
her ninja cat that sometimes thinks he’s a dog too. In her free time she enjoys
watching all sorts of movies, playing video games, reading tons of books, and
cooking her favorite meals.
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