Prisoned - Marni Mann Page 0,104

know all the names of everyone who works here?” I asked. “There must be hundreds of employees.”

“Some departments have a high turnover, so I don’t get a chance to learn them before they leave or get fired, but I know most of them.”

That impressed me.

So did the lobby. It was stunning, extremely contemporary, full of brightly colored glass chandeliers, exotic arrangements of flowers, and soft, shiny marble. I didn’t smell smoke even though I knew there was plenty of that in the casino in front of us. Crowds of people walked past us, congregated by the slot machines, or stood in front of the restaurant. But the space was so vast that it could handle all the people, which was good. I didn’t feel shut in at all.

“I’m going to show you the whole property a little later and take you to my office, so you can see where I work. But, first, I’m going to take you upstairs.”

He’d fucked me three times on the plane on the way here. The look in his eyes told me he wasn’t quite done with me. I loved that about him.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow?”

I’d learned that Garin really liked to take his time. His movements weren’t slow at all. They weren’t rushed. They weren’t half-assed. They were strong, rough, forceful, making sure I was constantly filled with a mix of sensations. But I never got his cock before I got his lips, his tongue, before he savored and licked every part of my body.

He leaned into my ear while he turned us down an empty hallway where we were finally alone. “You’re right about that, Miss Lang. You won’t be walking. Not after what I plan to do to your ass.”

He slapped it so hard that I yelped.

But I liked the pain.

He knew I liked it.

At the end of the hallway, there was a single elevator. Garin pressed the button and held me while we waited. It took a few seconds before the door opened, and a middle-aged woman walked off, carrying a bag of cleaning supplies.

“Your condo is all clean and ready for you, Mr. Woods,” she said with a heavy accent.

“Gracias, Isabella. Hiciste la cama con sábanas y cobijas nuevas?”

“Sí, señor,” she said, smiling at me as she walked past us.

I stared at Garin as we stepped inside the elevator, shocked at what I’d just heard. “You speak Spanish?”

He’d spoken it in the dream; he’d understood everything that Beard had said and translated it for me. But I didn’t know that, outside the dream, in real life, he was fluent. The two years of Spanish we had taken in high school hadn’t given us enough skills for a reply that lengthy. I couldn’t help but wonder where he’d learned it.

Garin placed his hand on the tablet that was embedded in the elevator wall. It read his fingerprints. A second later, he pulled his hand off and tapped the screen. It showed he had access to all the floors, but he selected PH.

“Garin? Will you answer me?”

He turned away from the tablet as the door shut, and the elevator began to rise. His eyes narrowed as he focused on my face. “Yes, Kyle, I speak Spanish now.”

He moved behind me, pressing his chest against my back, his hands circling around the top of my throat. That seemed to be his favorite spot to hold. He tilted my neck, so he’d have better access, and he kissed all the way down and across my shoulder. He ground his dick into my ass, eventually letting his hand slide to my pussy, swiping my clit before he brought it back up to my throat.

I moaned. The forcefulness of his movements, the way he was pushing into my ass, was such a turn-on.

“You want more?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “my soul mate wants more.”

My eyes popped open, not even realizing they had been closed. I’d called him that on the beach yesterday, but he hadn’t said it back to me. “I’m your soul mate?”

He didn’t answer me right away. He just held me tightly and kissed all around my neck. When he reached my ear, he pressed his lips really close and whispered, “I believe our soul mate is revealed only once during our life. Maybe it’s a glimpse of a stranger. Maybe it’s our best friend. The timing may not always be right. But, when they’re shown to us, we know it’s them. Then, life