This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,14
he firmly clutches my jaw and drags my gaze back to him.
“Do you want to know how many times I thought about climbing into your window and fucking you on your bed?” His dark eyes narrow at me and his pupils dilate, as if he’s getting off on the simple memory of his fantasy. With a flick of his tongue, he licks his lips and then growls. “Every single night since last summer. You taunted me in those tight clothes you always wore. I’m not fucking stupid, baby. I saw the way you watched me. How you’d bend over and give me a peek at that sweet ass. How you’d bounce around the house in a tight camisole with no bra on, with your tits on full display. You were playing games you had no business playing.”
I gape at him. “I didn’t ask for this!”
“No, but you wanted it.”
“Not like this.”
His grin stretches wide and reveals his perfectly white teeth which I’m sure will tear me to pieces one day. “But you admit you wanted me. Well, little girl, you have me. And I’m going to own every part of you until our time together is up.”
So smug. So sure.
My instincts tell me to obey, but I want to rattle him and shake the very foundation his world is constructed upon.
“If you talk this much during sex, I’m guessing it will be a total snooze fest,” I taunt with a snotty bite in my voice. He takes the bait and snaps at me.
“Playing games will get you hurt.”
“So hurt me.”
I smile in satisfaction at him. Screw you, asshole.
But my confidence dissipates the moment he slaps me. It was the fleshy part of his palm but it still stings.
“Ouch!”
He roars with laughter. “If that hurt, then we have a lot of work to do. Those men will devour you, baby. They’ll tear apart your flesh and bruise every part of you. You have to toughen up if you want to survive.”
His mouth lowers to my collarbone and he begins kissing me softly. It almost reminds me of how Brandon would kiss me. I wonder if he’s okay. I’m sure half of California is looking for me by this point. Dad will have torn apart our entire neighborhood. And with Gabe missing too, he’ll be an instant suspect. I’ve seen the crime shows Dad watches. It won’t take long for the police to assume Gabe took me and then look into his past. They’ll search his phone records, discover property he owns or rents. And they will find me.
It’s only a matter of time.
His tongue darts over my raised nipple and it hardens at his touch. Then he bites down. Searing pain rips through me, but before I can push him away, his tongue is back to massaging me. My heart rate is thumping along and can’t decide if it’s from fear or from yearning.
This can’t be happening. Not to me.
He’s once again doing all the things I seem to be powerless against. His mouth trails down my stomach and I gasp when he dips it into my belly button. My breathing becomes broken, heavy. My fingers crave to sink into his hair. Or rip it out.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to do anything but what he demands of me. He rolls away from me and heads back to his closet.
“Now, Baylee.”
I scramble to do as I’m told and stare at the headboard. I’ve stumbled upon some shows on cable late at night. They never show anything but sometimes the man takes the woman from behind. In the movies, they seem to enjoy it. I try to convince myself that I can do this.
The bed sinks behind me and his warm hand grips my ass cheek. “This ass is fucking beautiful.”
All too soon I realize, this is unlike anything I ever saw on late night television. Something cold and wet drags across my puckered hole. I instinctively buck, fighting the inevitable. Jerking my head over my shoulder, I’m horrified to see him teasing me with some metal thing. “What’s that?”
He grins and winks. “It’s a butt plug. Don’t worry, it’s small. We’ll work up to something larger.”
I’m already scrambling away when his fingers dig into my hips and he yanks me back to him. “Don’t move, baby, or this will hurt.” He begins pushing the ice-cold object into me.
“Please no.”
“Relax and let me or I’ll force it. Fucking understand?”
I whimper and nod.