Page 82 of Take Her

It almost made me feel bad about just what it was I was here to do—but not quite.

I set the book back and wove backward to her bedroom, where no fewer than four nightlights were on.

So paranoid about me visiting her—yet she’d still managed to fall asleep.

And there, on her nightstand, was a rather large penis-shaped vibrator. That did make me laugh, at the same time as I grabbed the sheet she’d tossed over herself and yanked it off the bed.

“Wake up, Lia,” I growled, throwing the sheet to the side before I pounced on her.

She woke up at once and panicked, thrashing without thought, as I clapped a hand against her mouth to muffle a scream. Her eyes were wide with fear, but it was too late for her to do anything—I’d trapped her hands beneath my knees on either side of her hips.

She was wearing a silk two-piece pajama set, and over her heart there was a cursive, monogrammed L in a darker shade.

“One nightlight’s décor. Four is a choice,” I told her, as I grinned mercilessly down. “Scared of me? Because you should be.” I slid the hand above her mouth down to circle around her throat.

“How did you get in?” she whispered.

“There’s no place on earth you can hide from me. Get used to it.” I stroked my thumb up and down her racing pulse. “Did you think I would just let you disobey me? Was that it? Did you just need to try me?”

I felt her swallow and try to shake her head. “No,” she hissed.

“So why didn’t you do what you were told?” I asked, leaning so close to her our foreheads almost touched. “Bad things happen to little girls who don’t listen, Lia.”

Her eyes were watering with unshed tears already. I hadn’t expected her to be that fragile, I was going to need to adjust my plan of attack. “Please don’t make me,” she whispered.

“Please don’t make me,” I mocked her. “Beg me,” I said, while reaching my free hand for her cuff.

“Please don’t sir—Mr. Selvaggio—please-please-please, Rhaim, sir, please—” she started chanting, like a prayer.

Whatever showing her wrists to me meant to her—that hook was planted deep.

Fine, then.

I would see the rest of her.

I changed course and leaned over to snatch the vibrator off her nightstand, holding it at her chin like a knife, with a wolfish smile showing all my teeth. “You want to bargain?” I asked her, and she nodded frantically. “Good. Then fuck yourself with this.”

She gasped, as I rocked back and off of her, dropping the sex toy on her chest.

“Did it sound like I was joking?” I demanded, grabbing hold of her pant cuffs, and yanking. She slid halfway down the bed with a startled yelp as I yanked again, pulling her pajama bottoms off entirely. She scrambled up the bed, breathing hard, her eyes wide with fear, her legs curling up protectively.

It was too late. I could already see everything—the tight nest of pink folds I wanted to lick, hidden between her legs.

I pulled my attention away from her pussy and mounted the bed again, taking one of her ankles to draw down, then the other, and while she didn’t flow with me, she didn’t fight me either. Then I saw her eyes start to glaze as panic took over.

“You don’t get to go away, little girl. You have to stay here with me the whole time,” I said, crawling up to grab her jaw and squeeze it, making her focus on me. “Pick your toy up.”

She did so with shaking hands. She was panting now in terror, and she dropped the thing twice. I knew she wanted to ask me not to do it—but she also knew I had no more forgiveness in me for the night.

“You have a safe word,” I reminded her, in a growl in case all of her sense had fled—but it hadn’t. I felt her head twitch, denying the need to use it, as she turned the vibrator on.

“If I do this, you don’t look?” she whispered.

I let one of my eyebrows arch up. “Only if you do it well.”

She took a deep and steadying inhale at that. I moved to crouch over her again, so that to reach herself she had to thread the thing through my knees, and I heard her turn it on. The slight whirring of its mechanized parts quieted as she pushed it in, and her previously frantic breathing deepened.

“Are you embarrassed?” I asked. The expression on her face said she was, but she denied it.