His Property(5)

“Relax,” he said, but his thumb stayed at my asshole while his finger slipped into my pussy. “So wet,” he murmured. “Your pussy is so wet, baby. Are you turned on?”

I didn’t say anything, and he reached down and grabbed my hair, pulled my head back. “Answer me when I ask you a question. Are. You. Turned. On.”

“No,” I ground out between clenched teeth.

“Liar.”

He held the back of my neck and forced my head to turn toward his, then kissed me hard and deep on the mouth while his fingers probed at the folds of my pussy, which was getting wetter by the second. When he pulled back, he released me so fast it was almost violent.

His fingers left my pussy and grabbed again at my panties, pulling them all the way off. My bare pussy was against his lap now, and I could feel how hard he was.

I was wound tight, and despite what I’d said, I wanted a release badly. I slammed my legs together again, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of keeping them spread willingly even as my body screamed in protest, wanting me to grind myself against his hard cock.

I didn’t know how long I could hold out, but it turned out I didn’t have to worry about it, because a moment later, Liam pulled my dress back down and stood me up.

He slipped my panties into his pocket. “You can have these back when you earn them back.”

He stood up and began to walk to the door. It took a moment for the evilness of what he was doing to hit me. He wasn’t going to let me come. It was part of the punishment. He’d taken my panties, leaving my pussy swollen and wanting, reminding me how much he owned me, how he was the one who decided if and why I’d been good enough to come.

I began to follow him, my bare pussy throbbing, every step a reminder of how badly I wanted him, how I was powerless under him, how he had some kind of sexual and emotional hold on me.

I was about to demand answers again, but before I could, there was a knock on the door of the room.

Liam frowned, then crossed to the door and opened it.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Tony said. “But he insisted you would want to see him.”

“Who?” Liam demanded.

“Henry, sir.” It was strange to hear my father’s name said out loud. For so long, whenever he’s been spoken out, it was always just “my dad” as if he were an entity and not a person.

Tony stepped to the side, and there was my father, standing there, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Where’d you go?” he asked happily, as if we’d all been at Disney World or something and Liam and I had wandered off while waiting in line for a ride. “I have good news!” my dad crowed, not waiting for an answer to his question about where we’d gone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of colorful casino chips, red and green and blue and black. He fumbled and dropped some of them onto the maroon carpet. One rolled away and came to a stop near my foot.

I looked down at it. It was black, stamped with a picture of the casino and a huge 1000 embossed in gold numerals.

“I have the money,” my father said, sounding pleased with himself, as if he were a hero come to save the day instead of the one who’d gotten me into this mess in the first place. “I have the money to pay your ransom!”





3





EMERY



“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I’m on an amazing run.” My father looked past me into the room. “Wow, nice digs.” He gave a little whistle of appreciation then turned and looked at Tony. “Is this room available for tonight?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Tony said, shaking his head. He was acting professional about it, but something about his demeanor led me to believe that he was annoyed by my father. Not that I could blame him. My father looked a mess. I couldn’t remember what he’d been wearing a few nights ago, the night he’d lured me into Liam’s car, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was the same dirty khakis and too-big button up shit he was wearing now.

His face was covered with salt and pepper shadow, and he somehow, inexplicably, wore a pair of sparking white sneakers. He smelled like whiskey.

“Where’s the money?” Liam demanded.

My father took a step back, as if he were shocked at Liam’s tone. “I have to go to the cage,” he said defensively, as if he was offended at the fact that someone may have thought he didn’t have the money. “They don’t let you carry around that kind of money in chips.”

“Then let’s go,” Liam said. He told Tony he had it from here, sending the security guard scuttling down the hallway, then took my hand, wrapping my fingers in his. It was half a gesture of ownership, half one of warmth, and despite myself, I felt my fingers instinctually curl around his. He kept his hand in mind as we walked down the hall and stepped into the elevator.