Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I imagine all the things I could do to her tight little body. I picture all the ways I can bend, fuck, and suck her. And now, all I wonder is if her pussy is as tight as her frame and as sweet as the fear in her eyes.
I run my palm down the front of my slacks, gripping my growing erection. Elena follows my movements, but she doesn’t exactly squirm or cower as a girl afraid would. Not at first, she doesn’t. It isn’t until her eyes meet mine that she acts as she should, shuffling against her restraints and attempting to avoid my stare.
“What would that be?” Renato asks, breaking my concentration.
I stand straight, no longer covering my semi-hard-on from her. “I can tell you more about it later. Now isn’t the best time.”
Buona fortuna con quello, Micetta. Good luck with that, kitten.
“Very well. I’m not in the mood to play games. Do what you need to do to make this work. I will reach out once I get word of another meeting.”
I end the call and set the phone down slowly, knowing sweet little Elena is crawling out of her skin, wanting to know what we discussed. Wanting to know what this means for her? But I can guarantee she only thinks she wants to know. When she finds out, she’ll wish she never had.
“Tell me something.” I take my time spreading jam on another piece of toast, knowing it has to drive her crazy. Drawing the tension out so she’ll be more likely to blurt out answers to my questions, if only to make this stop. “And I want the truth. Don’t give me any more of your bullshit pretenses.”
“They aren’t pretenses.” Her voice is hoarse thanks to the fact she’s been given no water since arriving.
She’ll break soon enough.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Is it my imagination, or does she growl softly at me? I have to give her credit for her spirit. She’s entirely under my control with no hope of escape, but she’s still feisty.
“Why were you at the warehouse last night? All I want is the truth. Let’s face it. Your family left you vulnerable. Why would you go out of your way to shield them now?”
“What difference does it make what I tell you? You aren’t going to believe me.”
“I don’t know that I would go that far. I can be a very understanding person when given the opportunity.”
“I’m sure. But you also refuse to listen to the truth when it isn’t the truth you want to hear.”
“You are determined to irritate me, aren’t you? I’m trying to be your friend here.” I take a bite of the toast and inch a little closer to her.
“Do friends tie friends to chairs in your world? Sorry, but I can’t believe that.” She tries to move her arms as if illustrating her point.
“What was that about not believing the truth when it’s what you don’t want to hear?” I taunt, now only centimeters away.
I hold the half-eaten piece of bread toward her mouth, but she turns her face away, her jaw twitching. Not so much fun when she’s caught in her own bullshit.
Trying another tactic, I ask, “Why did your father decide not to show up for that meeting? My family is sincere in reaching out to create an alliance, but that’s not possible if he’s acting in bad faith. What can we do to fix this?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea,” she seethes.
“Is there a way I could reach out to him? Get through to him?”
“I’m telling you the honest truth. I don’t know.”
“Do you know anything at all?” I snap, tossing the toast across the room, the sound of it scraping softly against the hardwood floors.
Elena winces but remains silent, staring at the tabletop rather than me. She doesn’t want to play nice? That’s fine. She’ll soon wish she had.
I round the front of her and lunge forward until she has no choice but to look at me. She draws a quick, sharp breath, sitting up straighter at my movement. Yes, this is better; this is what I wanted. To watch her resolve fade away. She can pretend to be tough and loyal to her family all she wants when there is a table between us.
It’s another story now. Once my hands are on her, all bets are off. I doubt she’s forgotten the way I manipulated her last night—the faint bruising around her throat tells me it would be impossible to forget.
“Here’s the thing, Elena.”
She flinches every time I use her name, which for some reason, excites me a little. Bringing my hand to her neck, I run the back of two fingers along her collarbone, tracing the bruises I left behind. She shies away even though it’s pointless. She’s tied and bound, completely at my mercy.