Ethan
I didn’t want to move. I wanted her strapped to my bed with every orifice filled. I wanted to tease her until she begged or screamed. Preferably both.
I wrapped my arm around her and held her.
“My sweet little killer,” I murmured, easing my finger in and out of her arsehole.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Feels so good.”
Her pussy clung to me as I fingered her. I shifted until my back rested against the tub without releasing her.
“Yeah? Are you going to spike me with Viagra?” I asked, and chuckled when her head snapped up.
“You saw that?” she groaned.
“I did.”
Her eyes closed and she rested her head on my shoulder.
“You need to give me some dirt so we’re even,” she grumbled.
I rested my hand on her head.
“We don’t need to keep tally.”
“Easy for you to say when I’m at a disadvantage.”
“I’ll barter the information if you make it worth my while,” I mused.
Her hand came to rest on my chest, fingers moving in small circles. Her nails were a practical length, soft pink polish on them.
“What would you like, Dr Hammond?”
“How about some light bondage?”
“The handcuffs are on the floor.”
I considered that briefly before dismissing it.
“Okay. Mid-level bondage.”
She was quiet for a moment.
“It’s usually me tying someone else up.”
“Call it expanding your horizons.”
“And how do I know you’re not feeding me false information?” she asked softly.
Her question made me pause. I answered carefully.
“No one has ever made it out of my basement alive—and before my basement, no one ever saw my true self a second time. We’re both risking everything. Do I want to tarnish that before we even begin?”
Her fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their slow circles on my chest.
“I’ve never dated or had a relationship.”
“So we’re both starting on equal footing.”
She glanced up, searching my eyes, then hummed and looked away. She didn’t believe me. The same old doubts began to creep in.
“Okay,” she said, interrupting my slow spiral.
“We’ll probably drive one another nuts,” I said, pausing for a beat. “Well, more nuts than usual.”
“We’ll probably have at least one attempted murder during our first fight,” she snickered.
“I should take my knives back.”
“Oh, yeah. And don’t ever touch anything in my studio again,” she snapped.
“Geez, I straightened one palette.”
She mumbled something under her breath.
We both knew the first terms had been set. Thou shalt not lie.
It wasn’t really lying if I didn’t tell her about the cameras in her house. If she asked me about them, then that would be a different story.
This might get problematic.
Then she ran her hand down my chest.
“I’m hungry,” she whispered.
It was strange to consider another person’s needs, but for some reason, Anne made it easy. She might not realise it, but hidden away, there was a vulnerable side to her.
She’ll leave you.
I sat up, lifting her with me.
“Let’s get washed up and get you fed.”
“Can you cook?”
“I’m not a child.”
“Hm. Rich people are often incompetent at basic tasks.”
I considered choking her, but decided it was easier to just imagine it instead. If she passed out, she wouldn’t eat. I could just singe her food. Make her taste ash.
Her fingers snapped near my face.
“Stop daydreaming about killing me and feed me.”
I smiled and dunked her head beneath the water.
She came up with fists flying.
I chuckled and grabbed them before she made contact.
“Ugh, you had me in cum water,” she gasped, scrunching up her face.
“A nice facial for you,” I murmured, running some hot water before searching for a fresh washcloth.
“I am biting my tongue.”
That was progress—better than having a knife stuck in my neck.
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I turned again, placing my hand beneath my pillow and feeling the cool sheets beneath. I wasn’t sure if I liked having someone in my bed. I’d never shared one before, and it put me on edge—but then I saw how peacefully she slept beside me, and it made me feel petty.
Tonight had been pleasant. Dinner and a movie.
I turned onto my back again.
After restitching Eva, I’d put her back in the cage. Gareth had been sullen, and the burn mark on his face made me happy. His words had reminded me of my mother’s, but his were aimed at Anne.
I turned to face her and moved close enough to place my arm around her waist. She gasped and sat up. I switched the lamp on. The panic faded as she took in her surroundings.
She yawned and lay back down, but moved closer. When she didn’t move or say anything else, I switched the light off. She had dozens of cuts along her upper arm, and more further down. Her inner thighs were the same—cut after cut.
I placed my arm around her and closed my eyes.
At least all my cuts were on the inside.
I kissed the top of her head and fell promptly asleep.