Page 32 of Black Heart

“I was.”

Her voice comes through my speakers, husky with both shame and desire.

My response is just as low and raspy. “Toss the sheets aside. I want my monitors to glisten with how wet you are.”

Layla peels the sheets off her glorious body, her nightgown riding up as she squirms.

“Spread your legs,” I command.

After a brief hesitation, she does, her knees bending slightly.

“Wider.”

I zoom in while I make the demand, the details of her desire reflected back at me in high definition, from the blush to her cheeks, the swell of her bottom lip as she bites it, to the fluttering of those gorgeous eyes.

Layla shifts, her knees lifting on either side of her.

I smile when the pink folds of her pussy are centered perfectly in my vision.

“I’m very pleased to know that I’m keeping you up at night,” I tell her, my voice a low growl. “Are you dreaming of me fucking you, Wraithling?”

I can hear her breath quicken, her center wet and ready for me.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

Her fingers resume their frantic pace.

I can understand her need at this moment. Desire is so much better at consuming fear than hate. Layla wants to lose herself in what I did to her—what I will continue to do—rather than think about her life being cut short solely because she chose to stay late at work one time.

A respite which I am more than happy to give her.

“Stop playing with your pussy. Pull your nightgown up. Show me your breasts.”

“What if I say no?” Layla continues to bury two fingers in her pussy, pumping and rubbing her clit with her thumb.

My upper lip spasms with both want and irritation. My Wraithling will bow to me if I have to storm over there and force her hands above her head.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I say.

“I can say anything I want.”

“You can say no,” I concede, my tone barely restrained with temper. It’s not often I’m defied. “You can do anything you want, in theory. You can call the cops, come after me, do whatever the fuck you have to do.” I pause. “But you won’t.”

“Won’t I?” she asks, her brow arching along with her neck as she curves into her pleasure.

Amusement curves my lips at her attempt to provoke me.

“I’ve scared the absolute fuck out of you before—what’s stopping me from raising the stakes the next time I see you? Using my cock instead of my hand, I could shove it inside that sassy mouth of yours, your plump lips rounded as you choke on my cum while I plunge in so deep, you can’t bite down.”

I throw my head back and groan at the tantalizing thought.

It’s the most words I’ve ever said to her, and what does she do? She shoves her hips up, burying her fingers up to the knuckles at my words.

“Maybe next time I see you, I will,” I vow, my voice tight. “You want the kind of pleasure only I can give.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard,” she retorts.

“I know,” I admit. “But I’m right.”