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“Marcus, I’m begging you.” More spit dribbles from the corner of my mouth. “We can try this without hypnosis.” Just not that. “I’ll be good.”
“Lying again.” He glares at me. “I see right through you, Leighton. I hear the lilt in your voice. Don’t lie to me. That’s rule number one.”
He’s not rocking his hips anymore. But the thick crown of his cock is pinned to my clit, putting me in a state of constant need.
“O-okay,” I breathe through the forced arousal, clenching my thighs. “I won’t lie. I swear.”
“Good girl.” His finger traces a slow circle around my taut nipple, flicking it at the end. “Break this rule, and you’ll be punished.”
I blink once in agreement and his cock jerks.
“Oh, fuck yes. You’re so good, little doll,” Marcus hisses, bending to remove the gag from my mouth and below my chin. Then he’s back to watching me. His psycho side blends with that of the curious psychiatrist. “I can tell you’re worried. Don’t be.”
Hope blooms within me. Maybe my pleas have made an impact.
“When I fuck you the first time, I won’t hypnotize you,” he says, effectively killing the sliver of hope I might’ve had. “We’ll have time to play later.”
“No.” Yes. Why does my head scream yes? “My parents will call the cops. They’ll look for me. Rylan will come looking for me.”
He growls. His chest vibrates, his jaw grinds. “Rylan will never find you.”
His sudden anger doesn’t make sense. About Rylan?
“Your parents,” he adds, his cold, calculating mask slipping back into place. “You texted them. Informed them you and Rylan had a falling out. You needed space, so you joined a couple of your classmates. You’ll be in Cancún for the rest of the week. Maybe longer.”
My bottom lip drops, and Marcus’s heated gaze zooms in on it. “You hypnotized me to do that?”
“No, plaything. I sent the message from your phone the moment I decided I’m taking you.” He’s nonchalant as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Then I destroyed the damn thing. When they start noticing you’re gone, I’ll text them from my laptop. No one will know where you are.”
“You’re a psycho.” Even tied, even supposedly helpless, I can fight him. I will fight. “You can’t do this.”
Marcus doesn’t give me an answer. He reaches behind my head, removes my hairband. Brushes my hair so the messy strands are on either side of my shoulders.
“Tell me, Leighton.” He returns to the knot in my bottoms, untying it effortlessly. “Will I be your first?”
A tear leaks from my eye. My nose scrunches as I sniff.
I didn’t cry when I found out I was kidnapped or bound. Didn’t shed a tear when Marcus announced I was his prisoner.
At the mention of my virginity, I do. Not because he’s about to take it.
Because it humiliates me to admit I’ve been saving myself for him. No other boy ever interested me. Every time I visited or slept over at Rylan’s, I got my fill of orgasms and butterflies from Marcus.
I haven’t needed anyone else.
Staring into his probing eyes, the humiliation becomes physically painful. I’m fucking mortified. How pathetic am I, waiting for a man who should’ve never been mine. For a psycho that turns me on.
“I am, aren’t I?” He lowers his finger to my entrance, dragging my wetness up to where I—don’t—want him. “No need to be shy. I know. You’ve been waiting for me.”
“No.” I’m clinging on to whatever dignity I have left, slamming my mouth shut.
“I can get the answer without your consent, Leighton.”
“You promised,” I growl, ashamed and indignant.
His eyes narrow. “I also remember saying lying will get you punished.”
“Fine, yes. You’ll be my first.” The confession scorches my throat. “I haven’t been with anyone else. Happy now, huh?”
