Or other girls, I add in my mind, wincing at the thought of my captive. On the screen, Pandora rolls her eyes at my reply and quickly fires one back. It hasn’t escaped me that her dress has ridden up, exposing an expanse of her bare thigh. I wonder whether she’s wearing panties as an evil plan to fuck with her more grows in my mind.
I don’t even care. I met a new guy. Heard you guys were great friends.
I fight the urge to smash my phone’s screen. Instead, I force myself to type back a calm reply.
Don’t confuse my absence as a reason to misbehave, toy. The guys are watching. P.S. Easton Brantley is NOT a fucking friend.
I watch her read the text, then roll on her front. She doesn’t send a reply and my gut is telling me she’s fucking testing me, seeing how far she can push me before I really lose my freaking mind. I’m going to punish her for all the shit she’s done while I’ve been away. Starting right the fuck now.
I call her.
I watch her stare at her ringing phone with a confused expression, then finally pick up the call. And when she does, she’s already lying on her back, her dress pulled up around her hips and her tiny little navy panties pushed to the side. I smirk to myself, knowing what she wants, even if she fucking denies it on the phone.
“Hi, toy,” I tell her. “Eager for my call?”
“Never,” she grits out. “What do you want now?”
“What I want,” I begin. “Is for you to touch that greedy hole between your legs. I know it’s been waiting for me.”
“You have no idea,” she rolls her eyes. “Like I’ve been sitting around waiting for you to abuse me. You really do think highly of yourself, don’t you, Dexter?”
On the screen, I watch her touch her fingertips to that pussy I fucked only days ago. I briefly wonder how often she’s thought of me. If she’s touched that needy cunt without permission. The thought makes me enraged.
“Listen to me,” I say sharply. “I don’t want you touching yourself without me.”
“What?” she barks. “Why not? You don’t own me, Dexter.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I do. Because I know your secret, don’t I?”
An uncomfortable silence lays on the room, and I watch her chew her bottom lip as the nerves settle in. Fucking good. She should be worried, because I have eyes freaking everywhere, and she’s the center of my attention right now.
“I haven’t told anyone I’ve fucked you,” I go on. “Yet. But I can ruin you anytime I want. So, you better do as I say, toy. Or do you want to lose your Firstborn status?”
She remains stubbornly quiet, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress on my computer screen.
“I didn’t think so,” I tell her. “Now first, I have a word of advice for you. And by advice, I mean you’re going to do exactly as I say, or fucking else.”
“What is it?” she asks.
“Promise you’re going to be a good girl and do as I say.”
“Already?” She rolls her eyes on my computer screen. “You haven’t even told me what the advice is.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I hiss. “If your fiancé tells you not to do something, you fucking do as you’re told.”
“Great, more rules to follow. More limitations. I’m sick of it, Dexter. But sure, tell me what the newest thing is that’s bothering you so much.”
“Brantley,” I grind out. “Easton Brantley.”
I watch her closely for a reaction and am not disappointed when she instantly flushes a dark pink shade. She’s so fucking easy to read. I already know Easton’s fucked around with her. There will be hell to pay for this.
“What about him?” she asks, a small edge of defiance in her voice as she juts her chin forward.
Feisty. I kind of like it.
“You’re not to spend any time with him,” I hiss. “Especially non-supervised without the other guys. I don’t want you around him. I don’t want you talking to him, hanging out with him or exchanging so much as a hello with him. Do you understand?”
She lets out an incredulous laugh that makes my fucking blood boil.