Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Conditioner,” I tell her after she rinses the shampoo from her hair.
She obeys the order quickly, but as her hands work the cream into her hair, her demeanor begins to change a little.
Her scared eyes gather a hint of defiance, irritation at following my orders clear as she immediately rinses the conditioner from her long blonde hair. I know she’d let it sit for a few minutes if she were alone, but I don’t make her repeat the process.
“Stop,” I snap when she considers herself done and reaches to turn the water off. “Do you really think I’m going to let you out of the shower before you wash your pussy?”
She shows more emotion than she has, yet when she looks back at me, her chin quivers uncontrollably. I know she’s crying, her eyes red from a combination of terror and the soap that had to have gotten in there in her stubbornness not to close her eyes to rinse the shampoo out.
I give her the same look I gave her earlier that says you know the rules.
A sob escapes her throat as she lathers more soap on her hands before pulling the front of her soaked dress up.
She doesn’t show me a damn thing as she cleans herself. I didn’t exactly expect her to lift the fabric and tuck it in under her chin as she washed, and I have to say I’m both a little disappointed and proud at the same time.
Surprisingly, she turns her back to me, risking taking her eyes off me to rinse herself clean, but I don’t use the opportunity to showcase the power I have over her. She’ll get more of that soon enough.
“You can turn off the water now,” I instruct when she turns back to face me.
She does so hesitantly, as if she’s anticipating the really bad shit to happen now that she’s clean.
“Get my floor wet, and I’ll make you lick it clean,” I warn as she lifts a leg to step out of the shower.
“May I have a towel, please?”
She says it the same way she did when she asked for the blanket. She’s very prim and proper, very fake.
“You’ll never get fully dry in that soaked dress.”
She blinks up at me, smart enough to understand what I’m saying, but not willing to do any more than she’s instructed.
“Strip,” I say, making it easier for her to obey.
“Pl-please,” she begs, and the sound of it makes my semi-erect cock start to thicken fully.
I don’t step back. I don’t give her any indication that she’ll win this round if she refuses.
And once again the witch fucking surprises me by reaching behind her for the zipper on her dress. She struggles for a few seconds, the zipper no longer working properly now that it’s wet.
The dark fabric falls to the floor at her feet, and that ounce of defiance I saw in her eyes disappears as she looks up at the ceiling.
Her black lacy bra is a perfect match to the tiny piece of fabric between her legs. I spend a solid minute staring at her, raking my eyes over her body. She looks fucking incredible, something I noticed even in that one-piece bathing suit she was wearing earlier today, but right now? She’s fucking delectable.
She’s still covering more in her underwear than the other woman was wearing in her white bikini, but that chick has nothing on Raya fucking Reed.
This girl is fucking trouble.
I knew after discovering who she was that I’d more than likely end up dead at the end of this.
I just didn’t realize that she may be the one to actually kill me.
“All of it,” I demand.
Chapter 8
Raya
He’s going to rape me.
I’m certain of it. It’s in his eyes, in the way his erection strains against the sweats he’s wearing.
I never considered this would happen to me. Not once in my entire life did I ever think I’d be threatened in this way.
Of course there have been times when men my father introduced me to crossed a line. It’s sad how young I was when I started getting looks, ones that said the man staring at me wished he had a few minutes alone with me. Men in power always think everything is theirs for the taking, but not once did I think I was unsafe. Creeped out, yes, but never this.
“P-please,” I beg again, even though I know it won’t work.
Will I survive this?
Would I even want to after he’s done with me?
I’m to the point of not being able to control my emotions. Until now, only tears escaped, but as he stands there with that threat of if I don’t do it, he’ll do it for me, in his eyes, I can’t stop the sob from escaping my lips.
I press my thumbs into the elastic waistband at my hips, uncertain why I choose to take my underwear off before my bra.