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My cock twitched at the preview of the photo I’d sent to him. It was a perfect shot of her, brows creased as her pussy was forced to stretch around the metal.
I watched as the message was marked ‘seen’ from Rogue’s phone, and I think that gave me more of a rush than beating the shit out of him ever had.
He replied, as if to make it clear I knew he had seen.
Rogue: Did you change the Netflix password?
I rolled my eyes, taking another bite of the apple and checking my notifications to find an email from my credit card: a new payment to Netflix.
I snorted.
A weak attempt at pretending he didn’t care. He was probably losing his mind right now.
I tapped back into the feed of my bedroom to see how Thistle was holding up, and, naturally, I wasn’t disappointed.
She was still on the bed in that sexy position, but she was clearly restless. I turned the volume up, taking another bite, then paused, tilting my head.
Was shegrowling?
I turned up the volume more, zooming in. She fisted her hair, twisting her neck to look at the door. Sure enough, as she adjusted again, there was the faintest rumble in the audio that was definitely a growl.
I grinned.
How long would she make it?
Apparently, until I was tossing the core in the bin and pouring myself a glass of whiskey. With it in hand, I crossed the kitchen to the hall, watching as Thistle ran out of patience.
She’d shoved herself up, glaring about the room as she wiped her face free of cum with her arm, which was a shame. Then her fist closed around the chain at her neck and she tugged on it furiously. Her gaze landed on the far bedside table—the one with the gun and her Bunny.
I reached the door of my room when she finally moved.
Muttering something incomprehensible, she all but tumbled from the bed, picking herself up ungracefully and giving it a kick before making for the bedside table.
I paused at the door, instead leaning against the wall, willing to wait it out and see what she’d do.
She grabbed her bunny for a moment, hugging it close, then set it back down. Next, she picked up the gun, turning it in her hands and checking it.
I found myself so desperately curious about what was going on inside her mind, it was jarring. I don’t think I’d cared about anything—outside of hatred—in forever. Not sincebefore.
Next, she looked around the room, a scowl on her face.
Was she going to make another escape attempt?
Something told me no…
Sure enough, she reached for the drawers on the bedside table and opened them one by one. Whatever she was looking for, she wasn’t pausing long to check for it.
I frowned as she vanished into my bathroom, and I heard the sound of drawers being opened, and then the creak of my walk-in closet’s door.
In there, she rummaged for a while, and I made out what could only be furious muttering as she did. Finally, there was the sharpbangof the gun going off once more.
I raised my eyebrows, unsure what had just happened.
Then she marched out, looking a lot less angry, set the gun down on the bedside table, and clambered back onto the bed.
Fascinated, I chose that moment to pocket my phone and open the door. I stepped into the room in time to see Thistle diving across my bed and scrambling clumsily back into presentation.
I made her wait, crossing the room directly to the massive walk-in closet. I sensed the shift of worry in her frosted moonflower scent as I did, but I ignored it, peering about inside.
