Predator

39

Amelia's mind raced. Liam had deliberately hidden the key, making her believe she could escape, but he had never let her go. He just needed to tug on the invisible string to bring her back.

"Do you find it amusing to mock me?" she asked. Liam, losing strength, chuckled weakly. "If you killed me, you might have escaped by now."

His rough fingers lifted her chin, making her face redden. "Why didn't you?"

"I don't want to become a killer like you," she replied. "You're lying," he said, eyes glazed with a mix of clarity and delusion. "You can't bear to lose me, Amelia."

He pulled her close, ignoring her struggles, their breaths mingling in heated tension. "Never leave room for mercy. Your kindness will be used against you."

Liam, feverish and weak, kissed her passionately, his desire turning savage. Mike, seizing the moment, tried to sneak away. "Where are you going?" a voice called out.

A golden-haired figure emerged, eyes shining with amusement. "Liam, you disappoint me more and more."

The gun pointed first at Mike, then at Amelia, and finally at Liam. "Who let it out?"

Amelia clenched her fists. "I did," Liam answered calmly. "The key was with me."

"Reason?"

"An elephant needs space to grow. Keeping it confined won't get you what you want."

The figure raised an eyebrow. "And if it runs?"

"It won't," Liam replied, half-respectful, half-mocking. "You have eyes everywhere."

Satisfied, the figure turned back to Mike. "What do you think?"

Mike, filled with despair, looked back at Amelia. His steps steady, he approached the gun, only to turn away at the last moment and lock himself back in the cage. The key was retrieved, the lock clicked shut, and the scene calmed.

The figure, now indifferent, remarked, "Interesting. If you can't handle your canary, send her to me."

Amelia, still held by Liam, watched him tend to his wounds. "Come back with me," he murmured, his body burning with fever. "You're burning up," she noted.

Ignoring her, he carried her to the bathhouse, undressing her while keeping his own clothes on. He washed her feet gently, the steam filling the room. Amelia could barely tell whose body was hotter, hers or Liam's.

The man lowered his head and bit her delicate foot, causing Amelia to shudder. This wasn't typical for him; usually, he would whip her into submission, making her kneel and beg. The sound of the water mixed with her muddled thoughts. Liam held her leg as she tried to pull back, pressing her freshly washed foot against his erection through the thin fabric.

"I was born and raised in Italy, just like you," he said.

"What about later?" she wanted to ask. Why the black market?

"You don't want to know," he replied. He slowly massaged her ankle, guiding her foot to soothe his arousal. The heat from his member against her sole made Amelia unsteady.

He could play anywhere, leading her into a depth of desire. His military pants had a small zipper, and every touch against her foot sent shivers up her spine, making her foot turn red from the friction.

"Does it hurt?" Liam's eyes burned with intensity. He couldn't hold back any longer. Pulling his pants halfway down, he pressed his large head between her toes, groaning in pleasure as her clean foot became smeared with his fluids. He spread the slickness with his hand and lifted her by the waist.

"Step onit," he commanded. "If you don't, I'll let go."