“Eat the food, I don’t want you losing any more weight.”
“I’m eating what I want,” she scuffs.
I glance down on her plate and look over her meagre selection of one roast potato and a few carrots. The only substantial part of her meal is the chicken I served her.
“That’s not enough food. When I fuck you next time, I’d like something to hold on to.” The devil must be riding my shoulders and it looks like he’s riding hers too because her face clouds with rage and she throws the fork down on the table.
“You bastard,” she seethes.
Fascination takes me when I watch her try to storm away like this is her house and she’s not being held captive here. Captive by me.
I’m about to give her a reminder.
I get up, rush up to her as she walks through the door and yank her back.
The fear she should have of me flashes in her eyes and fuck do I ever get off on it.
“Olivia, it looks as if I might have to remind you who you’re talking to, and your place here.”
“Aiden Romanov, I’m very aware of who you are and what my place is here, so I’d rather not sit at the table with you and pretend we’re normal people eating dinner.” There’s that smart mouth again.
“You do what I tell you, and I didn’t say you could leave.”
“Fuck you,” she hisses trying to yank her hand back. “Let go of me.”
“Should I start the count again for your defiance. I never got to six last night. How about I double it. Then again you seem to be a dirty girl. You might like being spanked. I don’t think I can forget how wet you were.”
I didn’t see her hand coming until it connected with my face.
Her dainty hand flew up and slapped me so hard I know it left a mark from the sting in my cheek.
I can’t remember the last time anyone did that to me and I allowed them to live.
Instead of rage though, she fascinates me even more, especially when she stares back at me with wide terrified eyes. A sign she knows she should be punished for what she just did and she’s worried about how I’ll punish her.
She squirms when I shove her up against the wall and pin her hands above her head. That’s when I remember my fantasy of fucking her against a wall.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you.”
“Yes, you did,” I breathe and move closer to her ear. “Insincere apologies will get you nowhere with me, neither will lies. You meant to strike me the same way as you meant to fuck me last night, and you want to do it again.”
I was already lost from the moment I looked at her. I’m just going deeper down the rabbit hole, following the lure of temptation that keeps me going in the wrong direction.
When she looks away and doesn’t answer I get my answer, so with my free hand I start undoing the little buttons on the front of the dress and once the cotton lays open I slip my hand in to give her breasts a gentle squeeze.
“Tell me to stop if you want me to Olivia. I told you I’m not that kind of monster,” I taunt, knowing she’ll never say no to me.
A little moan falls from her lips when I rub over her left nipple.
She squeezes her thighs together and I know even without touching her she’ll be wet for me.
I’ve turned this good girl bad with a dark soul and I want to dirty her up even more than I already have.
Her silence fuels the flames of lust, enticing me further to touch her and taste her so I pull back the fabric of her bra allowing her pleading nipple to pop out and I suck.
When she melts into me, I release her hands and she presses them to my chest, no longer resistant.
I glance up at her and take in the wealth of arousal brimming in her eyes.