CHAPTER ELEVEN
KYRA
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The ceiling is completely white, broken up only by an ornate light fixture in the middle. Except for one spot. I’ve stared at it for so long I’m becoming irrationally fixated on it.
Is it a bug? Is it fly dirt? An imperfection?
I need to know.
I really need to know. It’s my only stimulation right now.
I’ve even considered putting the armchair on the bed and climbing up to find out, because there’s literally nothing else to do.
Prison Warden Maddox, as I now refer to him, hasn’t provided any books or a TV. And I don’t have my phone.
Obviously.
All I do is stare at the walls and ceilings, seeking out mental stimulation until he brings me my next meal. Now, I know he is watching me from the cameras he’s placed inside this room, and that’s creepy as hell.
Who else is watching me?
The big question is, did he want me to know that he was watching me? Otherwise, why leave them on so I could see? I don’t imagine a man like Maddox makes mistakes.
Are they for my safety, or does he like to watch?
I’m not dead, Kyra. You’re a fucking gorgeous woman.
He seemed annoyed by that fact and my fumbled efforts to seduce him. I admit, it was pretty terrible, but you can’t just steal people from their homes and use them for whatever fucked-up reason.
God knows his motivations; he won’t tell me.
I climb off the bed and glance around the room, searching for the cameras. Maddox might have all the power right now, but let’s face it, most men’s weakness is hanging between their legs, so I’m going to use his obvious attraction to me.
Even if he does deny it.
He thinks I’m a pathetic heiress, so who am I to prove him wrong? I unzip the hoodie I’m wearing and toss it on the bed. Then remove my jeans, panties, T-shirt, and bra.
God this is humiliating .
Maddox has already seen me naked, so I swallow my pride and focus on getting under his skin and hopefully out of this prison cell.
I spend the next hour wandering between the bathroom and the bedroom pretending to be busy doing something—which I’m not, there is nothing to do—in my birthday suit.
I do some yoga stretches, skipping the downward dog, and then eventually wander to the window to gaze out into the world.
Is anyone looking for me? Has Maddox told anyone I’m here? What about the men whose voices I heard?
Does he have a girlfriend?
Yes, I noticed your tits, and yes, I would probably want to fuck you under different circumstances.
My nipples harden as I close my eyes and imagine a different ending to last night’s meal. One where I let myself admit how attracted I am to the strikingly handsome man.
Maddox stands and sweeps our meals off the dining table in my fantasy, then pulls me into his arms, kissing me with raw passion.
A moan escapes me as I hear his deep growl in my mind.
Maybe it’s because I’m naked. Maybe it’s because the thought of his enormous body wrapped around mine has me shivering and clenching my core. The way he currently glowers at me like a predator who is playing with his prey tells me my fantasy isn’t wrong. That he would be rough, demanding, and make me feel the kind of pleasure I can barely imagine.
Part of me wants to be his prey and for him to eat me up until I scream.
Oh, god.
Would he rip up my dress in this fantasy of mine and tear my panties off?
Yes.
My own hand slides around my thigh and slips between my legs. Another moan escapes as my fingers find their way into my delicate flesh.
God, what am I doing? He could be watching.
Holy hell, my pussy floods with arousal.
My neck tilts, baring my throat as I arch, imagining Maddox lifting me, ripping my thighs open, then clamping his mouth on my pussy. His growl sending tremors through my body.
“Oh, yes, fuck.”
My legs wobble as I circle my clit, widening my legs as I imagine him eating me like an animal. I press my other hand against the glass and lean in so my nipples brush the cold surface.
“Yes, oh, fuck,” I moan louder.
Do I want him to see me?
No. Yes.
I’m lying to myself.
It’s late afternoon, so surely Maddox is at work or in a meeting, not watching me.
But what if he is?
I rub harder, imagining his cock hardening as he watches me touching and pleasuring myself. The clench of his fist as he has to maintain a straight face for his colleagues.
Or is he in a private office and has his cock in his hand, jerking off to my moans?
I glance over my shoulder.
Then bend, pressing my fingers inside me.
“Fuck,” I cry out, tipping right to the edge.
I fling my head back and rub my clit vigorously with one hand and finger fuck my pussy. There is no vibrator in this room but with the image of Maddox watching me and the fantasy of last night lingering, I’m so damn close.
“Jesus.”
My nipples lift from the glass, then gently touch it, and the stimulation launches me into the hemisphere.
“Yes, yes, oh, god.” I scream as my body shudders and a powerful orgasm rips through me.
Holy fucking hell.
I pull my fingers out and palm the window to steady myself and stare out into the city.
Manhattan is still there, and I’m still here.
In my prison.
Pleasuring myself with fantasies of the man holding me captive.
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MADDOX
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I sit listening to my team going through their financial results for the month and glare at the screen of my phone.
What the fuck does she think she is doing?
Jesus Christ.
Obviously, I know exactly what Kyra is doing.
I run a hand through my hair and grind my teeth while my cock thickens inside my Tom Ford pants. Thank god, I’m sitting at the boardroom table and not standing in front of the room.
I’m going to fucking strangle her!