“Hey!” he protests when Roan starts laughing and imitating a hand job. I leave while they continue their dick-swinging contest. My skin is crawling after being gone from Harlow for this long. Our meeting was less than two hours, but I wasn’t able to check the apartment’s cameras that whole time either, and I’m itching for my fix.
When I get home, Harlow isn’t in any of the common areas, so I slip into the Vault to see what she’s been up to in my absence. First though, I check the guest bedroom’s camera and find her dozing. Her legs are tucked under the covers, and her arm is draped over her eyes like she fell asleep haphazardly. I’ve learned she’s a fairly heavy sleeper and seeing her like this, all spread out and vulnerable, reminds me of the way I had her spread out against the wall this morning.
God,she was so wet and needy. Her sweet mewls as she hated herself for wanting more. AmoreI was all too willing to give her, until she had been a lying cunt. The memory makes me want to storm in there and rip the covers off her. Make her bare herself to me the way I’ve been bared, raw and bleeding, to her.
I’d flip her over and pump her tight pussy full of my cum, and if she protested, I’d shove her face into the pillow so I wouldn’t have to hear it. Because she’s mine. And I won’t hear otherwise. Even from her.
My hand flexes over the computer mouse as I force myself to change the view on the screen so I’m not tempted to change my mind and bust in there right now. I scroll back in time to watch the footage from when I was gone. I’m not surprised to learn she took her time alone to snoop. I was hoping she would. I want to know she’s as curious about me as I am about her.
Half an hour later, there’s a sharp beeping alerting me that someone has tripped the alarm on the Vault door. I shut off the alarm and check the guest bedroom’s camera. Harlow’s bed is empty. Next, I pull up the hallway camera and smile at the computer screen.
It’s endearing really—her brash overconfidence in herself or a severe lack of self-preservation. I watch, becoming increasingly amused, as she grows frustrated with the lock. She huffs the awry tendrils of hair out of her face and glares at the doorknob.
Of course, no amount of time or hair pins will open this door. And unless she happens to accidentally press on the button disguised as a screw, she won’t even know the reason she’s failing. She stands, brushing her messy hair out of her face and throws her hands on her hips. She looks down at the doorknob like it is a misbehaving child.
I realize now that she's not wearing anything under an oversized, white t-shirt except for a skimpy pair of underwear. I can just make out the full underside of her ass, peeking out from under the shirt’s hem.
I want to pull her pouty bottom lip between my teeth and bite down until she yelps, but not let go until I can taste her bleeding for me. She may try to squirm away from me, but I’ll spank her bare ass so she has nowhere to go but closer to me. But mostly, I want to watch her get all flustered when I open the door she’s been so intently staring at.
I do just that, and the look on her face does not disappoint. She ranges from shock to fear to offense, like she can’t believe I would intrude on her little B&E moment.
I lean against the door jamb and take in her ruffled look, not missing the way her thick thighs press together when she does the same as me. “Do you make it a habit of breaking into the offices of dangerous men?”
“No,” she huffs. “Just yours. I didn’t know you were home.” She juts out her chin like that’s an adequate excuse for picking my lock.
“Let me show you something, Goldilocks.” I press on the specific screw which allows the knob to swivel, and her face grows excited when she sees the hidden keypad.
“I can’t lie, that’s pretty cool.” Her eyes soften as she looks up at me, her tongue tracing her top teeth. I watch the movement with something dark and hot brewing in my gut, wanting to see that same tongue lick me from balls to tip and then lick her lips clean after swallowing every drop of me down.
I step out of the doorway and swipe my arm out to invite her in. She’ll be the first woman to ever step inside the Vault. “I’m not wearing pants…”
“So?” I laugh. “Don’t get shy on me now,a chuisle.” She eyes me suspiciously, but enters. I can’t help myself, and I swat her ass as she walks by.
She whips around, and I shrug. “Cost of entry.”
“Is this your stalker lair or something?” She scans the six monitors and the various different security feeds on each one.
“Or something,” I mutter, coming to stand behind her, loving the way her spine prickles straighter by my mere presence. She subtly, as if it’s an unconscious movement, tilts her head to the side, drawing my attention to the stretch of her neck. Like her body is responding to me without her control, offering up her exposed throat.
But then, she curls in on herself, crossing her arms.1I follow the angle of her head to see that she is looking at the live stream of her bedroom. “That is really fucked up, Cash.” She turns around like she can’t bear to look at the obliteration of her privacy anymore.
“No, baby. I’ve never hid who I am.”I lift her chin with a finger so she doesn’t miss a single word. “What’s fucked up is youcoming to my name, then pretending you don’t want me, even when I fucking know you think ofmewhen you touch yourself.” Hot air fills my chest, the same beast that wanted to barge into her room and pump her full of me resurfacing yet again. Electricity races through me as I decide this little game is coming to an end, right now. I crowd her until her back hits the desk.
“I’m tired of waiting,a chuisle.You’re gonna tell me right now that what you feel for me is eating you up inside, the same way that my feelings for you have devoured me whole, or so help me god—”
She grabs my hand and brings it to cup between her legs. She raises her eyebrows at me as if to say,see?I laugh. “I am well aware of how your body reacts to me, baby. I know your pussy begs for me. But I wantyouto beg for me. If all I wanted was your wet cunt, I’d have taken you that night in the Den’s kitchen.”
She sucks in a shaky inhale. “You’re imagining it right now, aren’t you?” I pull her panties to the side, and she shudders when I graze my finger through her heat, just barely parting her lips. “You would have liked it too—though you’d never admit it. You would have fought me at first. And it would have only made me harder—your little pleas, your fright fueling your arousal, the sound of mingled pleasure and pain you would have made when I slammed into your tight little pussy.”
“That sounds a lot like assault, Cash.” She tries to sound tough, but her pupils dilate, and her telltale blush reddens her cheeks.
“No, baby. That's just me taking what’s mine.” I trace her jaw with the back of my hand, a tender touch to contradict the brutality of my words. I like the way I can see her fighting with herself, I like knowing that I have fucked her up as much as she has fucked me up. And I like—
Her slap makes my head snap to the side. Before her hand can recoil, mine strikes out and wraps around her wrist. She’s not a dainty woman, but when my blood starts pumping like this, I feel like I could snap her like a twig. When it comes to physicality and aggression, I don’t think, I just react. My body is a well-honed weapon that requires no thought to utilize.
I ignore whatever garbage she is stuttering and snatch up her other wrist. I spin her around and shove her over the desk, stretching her arms out and pinning them above her head in one of mine.
The first strike leaves a brilliant, red handprint on her ass. The sight of it loosens the knot made of fiery rope in my chest. But only a little. So, I don’t stop.