Chapter Five

B efore I could respond, he scooped me into his arms, hoisting me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing, my ass in the air. I cried out, but of course, no one was around to hear. He carried me down the trail, his grip unyielding as the streetlights came into view.

He set me down, his gaze sweeping over the quiet neighborhood, sharp and assessing, scanning for prying eyes. His grip tightened around my waist, anchoring me firmly in place.

Leaning in, he whispered in my ear, “Stay right beside me. Don’t fucking move an inch.”

His hand slid into his pocket, fingers curling around his keys. A soft electronic beep cut through the still night, followed by the distant clunk of doors unlocking.

I stiffened.

A sleek black car with tinted windows sat waiting just a few houses down from mine, its glossy surface reflecting the streetlights.

“You’re parked on my street?” My voice dripped with disbelief.

He smirked. “Of course, baby. I told you I was picking you up for a date.”

His fingers flexed against my hip, like the thought of it pleased him.

“Then I saw you head out on your run.”

His grin widened.

“Did you get my flowers?”

My jaw tightened.

He was there. Watching me. Always watching, like he said.

“I got them,” I whispered, staring straight ahead, feeling strangely detached from my body.

He nodded, satisfied, his face smug.

We walked in silence toward his car, his grip firm as he guided me forward. When we reached it, he opened the passenger-side door and retrieved an expensive-looking gift bag. Crimson tissue spilled from the top.

“For later,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Reaching into his gym bag, he pulled out a fresh shirt to replace the one he’d used to clean me. My cheeks burned as he casually stripped off his ruined one, standing there bare-chested on my quiet street, completely unbothered by the exposure.

He slid the clean shirt over his head in one smooth motion, shutting the door with a click that sounded unnervingly final.

“We’ll go to your place,” he said, his tone casual yet commanding. “Give you a chance to clean up and put on something pretty for me.”

Unease prickled at my skin as I watched him stride up the path like he’d been here a million times before.

How had he found me so easily?

I clenched my jaw. “Fine,” I muttered, through gritted teeth.

I’d spend the night with him. There was no getting away… and maybe if I cooperated, he’d be gentler this time. Maybe… I’d feel his tongue again.

A small, traitorous smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. Maybe I could take that from him. Steal something for myself. Then make an excuse, get him to leave before he tried anything more.

But as we neared the door, he bent down, his breath warm against my ear. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby? You scheming something? Trying to figure out how to get rid of me?”

My stomach twisted.

I shook my head quickly, my gaze dropping to the ground.

His smirk deepened, like he’d already won.

I unlocked the door, exhaling softly as I stepped aside to let him in.

Without hesitation, he strode past me, heading straight for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, popping the cap off.

“Wow, help yourself I guess,” I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He took a slow sip, completely unfazed. “I’ll cook you dinner later.”

Like it was normal, like this was his place.

He moved to my cabinets, casually scanning for ingredients. Then his gaze landed on the bouquet, still wrapped, discarded on the table.

His jaw ticked. “You need to get these in water.”

Before I could reply, he grabbed a vase from the counter. With surprising care, he snipped the stems, arranging the flowers neatly. There was something almost… tender about it. For a moment, something inside me softened. My heart skipped as I watched him.

He glanced over, catching my gaze with a smirk.

I wiped the warmth from my face instantly, replacing it with a scowl.

“You know, it’s okay that you like me,” he murmured, stepping closer.

His hand brushed the small of my back, heat sparking where he touched. He stayed near, his breath warm against my skin as his hand slipped lower, squeezing my ass and pulling me toward his groin. He was hard. Again.

A slow exhale left him, his voice dropping. “Just because you’re my little slut doesn’t mean you have to hate me.”

I scowled, stepping back.

He laughed. Low and taunting.

Then his expression shifted—darker now, sharper. His voice snapped, a razor-edged command.

“Now go get cleaned up.”

I blinked, stiffening. “Are you kidding me?” I snapped, retreating toward the counter.

His smirk never wavered. “I want that body fresh as a daisy for me.”

My stomach flipped, my hands curling into fists.

“I know you don’t want to wash my cum away, baby.” His tone was almost teasing, but the dark promise beneath it sent a shiver down my spine. “But I need you fresh for everything I’ve got planned.”

I shot him a glare, sharp as daggers.

“I do not love your cum on my face or my body,” I snapped, heart hammering.

The thrill of talking back to him—of not just taking his orders—made me feel a flicker of power.

His features darkened, his tone sharpening.

“Watch it.”

A warning. A challenge. His eyes narrowed, daring me to push him further.

My chest heaved, the tension between us thickening. My feet stayed planted firmly on the kitchen floor, refusing to move despite the oppressive weight of his stare.

“Get upstairs. Now.”

A deep, commanding growl curled around my spine, unsettling and electric.

I swallowed hard, pulse skittering. But then I sighed, relenting.

I hated giving him what he wanted.

But I did need a shower. And after that… I’d take what I wanted from him. A plan had started to form in my mind. I was sure it would work.

“Yes, sir,” I mocked, turning away with a defiant lift of my chin.

I climbed the stairs, forcing my posture to stay loose, casual—like I wasn’t affected. But at the top, I risked a glance back.

He was watching. Smirking.

That same knowing, predatory gleam.

The look that sent a rush of heat through me, igniting something I couldn’t ignore.

Steam swirled around me as I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pour over my skin, washing away the lingering remnants of his release. I lathered up slowly, fingers trailing over my body, mapping the places where he’d touched, claimed.

My fingertips brushed over my clit, and a gasp escaped my lips. I closed my eyes, letting the sensation take over. In my mind, it wasn’t my fingers. It was his tongue. Hot and insistent, teasing, dragging over my clit before dipping lower, tasting me, owning me.

I stepped out of the shower, skin flushed. Wrapping myself in a towel, I wiped the steam from the mirror, patting my face dry before applying a hint of makeup. I dried my hair just enough to smooth it out.

Why am I doing all this for him?

I inhaled deeply, turning toward the door. Locked. Good. Quickly, I grabbed my phone and typed out a message to Emma.

“ I need your help. Here’s the deal… ”

My fingers trembled slightly as I laid out the plan. I read it over once. Twice. Then hit send.

Emma replied instantly. “I’m on it. 8:00 p.m.”

I let out a shaky breath. I had 45 minutes.

Just enough time to get exactly what I wanted. To stall before he could claim me completely. Then, he’d be out of my life for good.

I could do this.

Steadying myself, I stepped into the bedroom, my towel wrapped tightly around me. I stopped short. On the bed sat a red gift box, black tissue paper spilling from the edges like ink. Slowly, I approached, lifting the lid.

Inside lay a racy red bra— if you could even call it that. Underwire framed the shape, but there were no cups, only open space designed to leave me completely exposed. A delicate red bow sat in the middle, deceptively sweet, as if that made it romantic. But it wasn’t. It was a display of control. A demand. Be his perfect slut.

Beneath the bra, a matching thong, equally daring. Thin, delicate, with a satin bow at the back, meant to be untied.

“Put it on.”

His voice came from the doorway—low, unshakable.

I startled, heart hammering. I hadn’t noticed him standing there. His gaze gleamed, slow and possessive, drinking me in like he already owned me.

There was no question in his tone. Only expectation.

I nodded, my pulse a frantic rhythm beneath my skin.

He wouldn’t get very far tonight.

I’d tease him, drive him insane.

And when he was so worked up he could barely think, I’d get my release—followed by an ‘unfortunate interruption.’

“No peeking,” I murmured, playful, controlled.

His lips quirked slightly before he stepped into the hallway.

I exhaled, my hands shaking as I reached for the thong.

Sliding the fabric up my legs, I felt it stretch over my ass, hugging my curves like a second skin. Settling my breasts into the open underwise, I adjusted the straps, watching as the outline framed me, provocative and bare.

I stole a glance in the mirror.

A jolt of excitement shot through me.

My large breasts stood prominent framed by an outline of red, the bow a small, tantalizing invitation.

Turning, I looked over my shoulder, admiring the way the thong hugged my ass. Perfectly round and smooth, shaped like an upside down heart, accentuated by my narrow waist.

I adjusted the bow until it sat just right.

Yes, this would definitely drive him crazy.

I took a deep breath. “Okay.”

The door creaked open, and he stepped inside.

His jaw dropped.

His gaze devoured me, sweeping over every inch like he couldn’t decide where to look first. Then a slow, deep exhale. A curve formed at his lips, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He shook his head, as if in warning.

“You are in so much trouble.”

His voice was low. Full of promise.

A thrill shot through me, a slight smile tugging at my lips as I imagined his mouth on me, his tongue teasing.

But then his head tilted, a twisted grin forming.

In a flash, he lunged, catching me off guard, pinning me down against the bed.

My breath hitched.

My breasts stayed upright in the bra as he hovered over me, burying his face between them. Hot, desperate. Possessive. His mouth moved furiously, kissing, sucking, pushing them together as if he couldn’t get enough.

A shiver tore through me as his tongue swirled across my nipple, slow and tormenting, before he suddenly bit down. Not hard, but enough to make me cry out.

“Ow!” I gasped, my back arching.

He pulled back slightly, smirking, though his voice dropped into something almost apologetic.

“Your body drives me insane, I can’t help myself.”

Sitting up, he pulled off his shirt, revealing that chiseled, tattooed body. His muscles rippled as he undid his belt, the veins in his forearms pulsing. One tug. The leather slid free from the loops of his jeans with a sharp snap.

I swallowed hard.

He wrapped the belt slowly around his hand, each measured twist deliberate, foreboding.

A devilish smile grew with every loop of the leather.

“On your stomach,” he ordered.

I hesitated.

But obeyed.

Rolling over, my heart pounded as I felt his hands glide up my sides.

What is he going to do?

The belt landed with a soft thud on the nightstand and I exhaled, a sharp breath of relief escaping me.

Then—

The quiet slide of his zipper being undone.

Followed by the low, deliberate slap of his cock against his palm.

I stiffened.

“Mmm… such a perfect present for me,” he hissed, crawling closer. The thick head of his cock pushed into the curve of my ass as he undid the delicate bow at my hip—untangling me thread by thread.

His hands spread me open and I could feel his eyes burning into my most private places, devouring every inch.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered, voice full of dark hunger.

I whimpered, my face burning as I buried it in the pillow, his words sinking into me like silk.

“This body is mine, every part of you.”

A slow, measured pause.

“I’m going to ruin you tonight.”

A rush of fear and excitement collided inside me.

Not a chance.

I swallowed hard, steadying myself. I’d get what I wanted—my release.

He’d be interrupted before he could claim me completely.

I stole a quick glance at the clock.

7:30 p.m.

Just enough time.

His tongue slipped along the curve of my ass, slow, teasing, savoring.

Then—his teeth.

A light graze, just enough to make me shiver, as though he were restraining himself from sinking in. His hands tightened their grip, spreading me wider.

Then—a sharp smack.

“Ouch!” I gasped, the sting spreading, radiating through me in a hot, pulsing ache.

He only chuckled.

“You think that hurts?” His fingers kneaded the spot he’d slapped, soothing. “You haven’t felt anything yet.”

A whimper slipped from my lips as his head dropped lower, his hands spreading my legs apart from behind. Then I felt his tongue. Teasing my clit, hot, wet and relentless.

I gasped as my back arched, giving him better access.

“I could spend all night here,” he groaned, flicking his tongue across me. Then—his fingers. Two thick digits slid inside, stretching me, filling me, curling just right.

A moan slipped out, unrestrained.

He pumped them deep, his tongue continuing its ruthless assault, licking, sucking, teasing.

“So wet for me,” he hissed, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “Such a little slut.”

Suddenly he stopped.

He pulled away, and crawled up to the top of the bed. He stretched out onto his back, arms loose at his sides, gaze dark with command.

“Get on top of me,” he ordered. “Sit on my face.”

My breath hitched.

A rush of heat shot through me as I moved up toward the headboard, gripping the wooden frame. Hesitation flickered for half a second.

“Don’t be nervous,” he rumbled, voice thick with anticipation.

“I can take your weight.”

Slowly, I let myself sink down, thighs quivering as his hands gripped my ass, guiding me. I gasped as his lips met my clit. His tongue circled slowly, teasing, then building up to a faster rhythm. My fingers curled tight around the headboard as his hands spread me wider, holding me exactly where he wanted.

Then I felt his fingers. Slipping deep inside me again. He worked them furiously, in and out, while his tongue lashed against my clit.

“So fucking good,” he moaned.

My thighs clenched around his head, my body trembling.

His hands reached up, gripping my breasts, cupping them, pinching my nipples till I screamed out.

“Oh my fucking god!” I breathed, as an intense wave of pleasure rushed over me, starting at my clit and radiating outward, to my pussy, pulsing through my core. I ground my hips down lower, unable to stop myself, riding his mouth, his fingers.

It was too much–too good.

A rush of heat surged as I felt my body unravel, tightening before it exploded.

“Adrian!” I gasped, my voice shaking. “I’m coming!”

The orgasm tore through me, leaving me shaking, dizzy and overwhelmed.

Before I could recover, he tackled me onto the mattress, pinning my shoulders down.

His grin was wicked, triumphant.

A nervous giggle escaped me, my pulse still racing.

“That was amazing,” I exhaled, chest heaving as I fought to steady myself.

I’d gotten exactly what I wanted.

Took from him like he took from me.

A quick glance at the clock.

7:55 p.m.

Time’s up, motherfucker.

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