Page 47 of Stolen
“She, uh, she … pulled my, uh—”
“She yanked his boxers up his ass,” Greg finished for him, a small chuckle at the end of his answer.
I would have smirked at that if it hadn’t also revealed something very telling.
“How was she able to do that when she shouldn’t even be able to lift her head?” I asked, my tone becoming suspicious.
Bruce and Greg both shrugged their shoulders, giving me the only explanation that was pretty likely. She still wasn’t eating enough.
“Someone isn’t holding up their end of the deal,” I admonished, turning my gaze back to hers, not sparing her a single ounce of mercy. “There will be consequences for that.”
“I can explain,” she murmured back to me. Far too coherently for my liking.
“Wrong answer.” Stepping away from her, I turned back to Greg and Bruce. “Get her up,” I ordered.
Realizing that my blood began to heat the moment their hands touched her barely clothed body, I had to restrain myself from beating both of them half to death. Cursing under my breath, I followed them into the room where the photographer, Aaron, had set up the scene for modeling the girls for the potential buyers. I abruptly felt the need to ensure Jaden’s cooperation during her photo shoot.
“You might want to tie this one up,” Bruce said to Aaron.
“Finally, something fun,” Aaron said, his interest instantly piqued, causing me to glower at him. “Put her on the bed.”
The bed was a four-poster canopy bed made up of black iron bars and cream-colored silk sheeting. Chains with shackles hung from each post, along with the middle of the headboard and the center of the canopy. Sometimes the photo shoots were more creative than others, depending on the potential clients. I didn’t normally attend the photo shoots, so I wasn't surprised when Aaron turned around to address me.
“Did you need something, sir?” he asked politely.
“No. Continue,” I ordered dismissively.
Nodding, he turned back around and began to position Jaden’s body and limbs exactly where they needed to be with the help of Bruce and Greg. Laid on her side with both hands behind her back, Aaron began to tie a wide black satin ribbon around her delicate wrists until he produced the perfect bow.
“Okay now, please don’t move,” he said as he moved to arrange her hair to fan around her.
“Fuck. You. Dude,” she slurred as she tried to shift away from him.
“Listen to him,” I nearly roared, making her entire body jerk from my raised voice. I was not about to allow her to think that any of this was an option.
Grabbing his camera, Aaron started taking the shots from one angle to the next, the bright flash of lights revealing all of Jaden’s best qualities and her silent rage. If it wasn’t for all the male eyes sharing in her unprecedented beauty, I would have truly enjoyed this. But instead, I felt I was only enduring it.
Fifteen minutes later when Aaron was finally finished with the shoot, he set the camera down next to his computer to upload the shots.
“Take care of it later,” I told him. “Everyone out.”
I watched Jaden visibly shudder as she closed her eyes, knowing she would be alone with me again. The anticipation of another eventful moment between us made me that much more eager. I couldn’t help but indulge myself when another opportunity was right at my fingertips.
When everyone had left the room, I took my time approaching the bed where she still lay, appreciating the quake in her chest as it rose and fell with each breath. I liked this effect I had on her. It made me wonder how far I could push it and if there were other secret reactions I could unearth.
As I stood at the edge of the bed with Jaden’s back to me, her hands still in the same perfect position with the black bow around her wrists, she looked like a fucking gift wrapped just for me. Between her incredibly toned ass to her pert tits pressed up so provocatively, I couldn’t decide which deserved more praise. And there was so much to praise her for.
Pressing my hands into the mattress, I leaned over her incredibly still frame in search of any flaw that might deter me from what was quickly turning into a dangerous obsession. But as my eyes traveled the impeccably toned lines of each muscle under her smooth porcelain skin, I couldn’t stop my hands from wanting their own personal inspection.
“Touch me, and I’ll stop pretending your drugs haven’t worn off,” she warned under a hushed tone.
I smirked. “I wish you would.” She had no idea how much I truly enjoyed her little threats. “In fact,” I said, pushing her body to the side so she was flat on her back, “I wonder how long you can continue to pretend before you finally snap and really give me a reason to touch you.”
She shook her head and grimaced. “Haven’t you ever heard of ‘don’t get high on your own supply’?” she groaned as my fingers began to leisurely trace along the lines of her thong.
“How else am I supposed to guarantee its quality?” I answered, snapping the line of her thong for emphasis. Her hips jerked slightly from the contact, her jaw clenching while the rest of her muscles tensed under all that beautiful smooth skin.
She released a hushed groan as if she were annoyed with me, and I found the idea absolutely comical. Me, annoying? I almost laughed. After all that she’d witnessed and endured, if her emotions had evolved from fear to annoyance after so little time, her mind had a very interesting filter for processing traumatic experiences. It made me want to experiment.