"That's it, baby," he continues, his tone almost soothing, despite the filth spilling from his lips. "Take my cock. Take all of it."
Baby.
My belly flutters, my heart soaring like a fool even though I know it's a runaway utterance. A thoughtless spi...
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I step over the threshold hesitantly, my shoulders and back stiff with discomfort. I'm really trying not to focus on how distressed and insane I feel about being here, but it's not working.
He opens the door wider and moves away slightly from the doorway, giving me some room to pass, but not enough to squeeze by without my body touching his. The act is intentional, and I only know that because he doesn't take his eyes off me, not even for a second. It's like he wants to see what I'll do, like he's testing me or some shit. I breathe out, trying to exhale some of the tension and anxiety, hoping to relieve some of the discomfort in the atmosphere.
"Uh...do you mind?" I say, hoping he'll just move and not be difficult.
"Do I mind, what?" he asks plainly, his expression neutral, showing no sign of what he's thinking.
"Could you move a little?" I clarify, not that he needs it. "I can't come in if you're in the doorway."
He stands there for several seconds, not budging and just staring at me. I would be creeped out if I wasn't so turned on. I walk past him, my shoulders brushing his chest even as I squeeze myself through the little opening between his body and the door as best as I can.
He makes no move to give me more space, nor does he seem to care that I'm getting into his personal space—or that he's imposing on mine, for that matter.
My heart beats hard in my chest at the contact. His cologne gently drifts into my nose, and I eagerly inhale the musky, intoxicating scent. I try to ignore it and keep placing one foot in front of the other. He looks amazing and he smells even better, but I can't let that distract me. I can't let that make me forget why I'm here.
I hear the door close behind me, and I grip the handles of my duffel bag until my knuckles hurt when I hear the turn of a lock and bolt. Despite my desire to be strong, I can't stop myself from looking over my shoulder to confirm what I just heard—to confirm that I am now indeed trapped inside this mansion with him.
He punches some numbers into a security pad hoisted on the wall by the door, and a corresponding beep follows, telling me that I'm now one hundred percent trapped inside this man's house.
My head whips the other way on reflex as soon as he turns around, my brain afraid to face him again. But it doesn't matter. He walks up to me from behind, and I can hear each footstep get unusually louder as he gets closer, as if each sound reverberates multiple times in my ears. Pretty sure it's the adrenaline fucking up my hearing, but I can't stop it.
I gulp, trying to swallow the canyon that just appeared in my throat. He comes to stand in front of me, and I force myself to meet his scary eyes. I don't want him to see me so intimidated.
