devouring my body with his mouth, his teeth, his tongue. It feels like Carter is ravishing my soul.
Going to an all-girls’ school kept me sheltered. I even took all my college classes online after I graduated. The only dick that was ever near me was hired by my father. His men were either deadly scared of him or had too much respect for him to touch me—probably a little of both.
I follow Carter’s lead and return his kiss. I’ve wanted this for years. Before he was taken away, I used to try to get his attention and shamelessly flirt with him. I think I was terrible at it because never once did he touch me. I never cared that he was ten years older than I was. I wanted him. I even had this silly idea that if I waited for him, he could be mine. That’s why I wrote him those stupid letters that he clearly didn’t give a shit about. Feeling my anger rush back at the reminder, I go to push at his chest, but we’re ripped apart suddenly. A guard has me in his arms and my feet are still off the floor. It takes three other guards to wrestle Carter down onto one of the tables.
His hands grip the side of the table, his white knuckles betraying his iron grip. “Fuck, Cherry, never thought I was the jealous type,” he says, his voice rough with a touch of fury and possession. “Until you.” His glare moves to the guard holding me. “Now get your fucking hands off her.”
I’m stunned by his words. He’s pinned to a table by three guards and he’s giving orders? I guess some things never change.
“Get. Them. The. Fuck. Off,” Carter barks again as he starts to rise from his position, even as the guards try to push him down.
“This is my prison, Carter. You may get some leeway because of who you are, but there are cameras in here,” the guard holding me says as he places me back down on the floor.
“I just came for answers,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t catch on to my lie. I want answers, but I want him more.
“I got no answers for you here. I don’t want to see your little ass in this place again, Cherry.” ‘Cherry’, the name used to make me smile. Now it’s starting to piss me off.
“Says the man who just had his tongue down my throat,” I shoot back, feeling my anger boil over. Hell, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want him to know I care, but how can he not after receiving all those stupid letters? Letters that had started off as questions but slowly turned into a diary. I sent him my every thought. But, as time went on, they morphed into love letters to him. Maybe he doesn’t know what they contained. Maybe he threw them out before reading them. I’m grasping at straws. He may not know it, but he is all I have left.
After my mother disappeared, my father turned as cold as she had been. I had always been a silly child who just got in my mother’s way. She was too busy going to events and maintaining an image to devote any time or attention to me. I can still remember her offhand comments about my weight and frenzied red hair. I just always seemed to be in her way—a disappointing nuisance. Now my father can barely look at me. Does my father love me? Yes, I believe so. Family is everything to him. But does he show it? Can I feel it? Not anymore. Now I’m put away on a shelf, having to sneak away to come here.
“I haven’t felt a woman’s body in years, can’t blame a man for taking opportunities as they arise,” he says cockily as the guards slowly let him up. He drops down into a metal chair. He seems completely unfazed by what has just happened. I guess that was all it was to him—a man needing a fix. He didn’t possess my mouth, my soul for those few moments because he needed to touch me. No one touches me.
“I see I don’t have anyone now. Looks like I can go,” I say flatly, all emotion leaching from my voice. Hell, if no one else wants to show me any tenderness, why should I give any?
“Good. Get gone,” he snarls through clenched teeth, but I see his eyes
Going to an all-girls’ school kept me sheltered. I even took all my college classes online after I graduated. The only dick that was ever near me was hired by my father. His men were either deadly scared of him or had too much respect for him to touch me—probably a little of both.
I follow Carter’s lead and return his kiss. I’ve wanted this for years. Before he was taken away, I used to try to get his attention and shamelessly flirt with him. I think I was terrible at it because never once did he touch me. I never cared that he was ten years older than I was. I wanted him. I even had this silly idea that if I waited for him, he could be mine. That’s why I wrote him those stupid letters that he clearly didn’t give a shit about. Feeling my anger rush back at the reminder, I go to push at his chest, but we’re ripped apart suddenly. A guard has me in his arms and my feet are still off the floor. It takes three other guards to wrestle Carter down onto one of the tables.
His hands grip the side of the table, his white knuckles betraying his iron grip. “Fuck, Cherry, never thought I was the jealous type,” he says, his voice rough with a touch of fury and possession. “Until you.” His glare moves to the guard holding me. “Now get your fucking hands off her.”
I’m stunned by his words. He’s pinned to a table by three guards and he’s giving orders? I guess some things never change.
“Get. Them. The. Fuck. Off,” Carter barks again as he starts to rise from his position, even as the guards try to push him down.
“This is my prison, Carter. You may get some leeway because of who you are, but there are cameras in here,” the guard holding me says as he places me back down on the floor.
“I just came for answers,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t catch on to my lie. I want answers, but I want him more.
“I got no answers for you here. I don’t want to see your little ass in this place again, Cherry.” ‘Cherry’, the name used to make me smile. Now it’s starting to piss me off.
“Says the man who just had his tongue down my throat,” I shoot back, feeling my anger boil over. Hell, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want him to know I care, but how can he not after receiving all those stupid letters? Letters that had started off as questions but slowly turned into a diary. I sent him my every thought. But, as time went on, they morphed into love letters to him. Maybe he doesn’t know what they contained. Maybe he threw them out before reading them. I’m grasping at straws. He may not know it, but he is all I have left.
After my mother disappeared, my father turned as cold as she had been. I had always been a silly child who just got in my mother’s way. She was too busy going to events and maintaining an image to devote any time or attention to me. I can still remember her offhand comments about my weight and frenzied red hair. I just always seemed to be in her way—a disappointing nuisance. Now my father can barely look at me. Does my father love me? Yes, I believe so. Family is everything to him. But does he show it? Can I feel it? Not anymore. Now I’m put away on a shelf, having to sneak away to come here.
“I haven’t felt a woman’s body in years, can’t blame a man for taking opportunities as they arise,” he says cockily as the guards slowly let him up. He drops down into a metal chair. He seems completely unfazed by what has just happened. I guess that was all it was to him—a man needing a fix. He didn’t possess my mouth, my soul for those few moments because he needed to touch me. No one touches me.
“I see I don’t have anyone now. Looks like I can go,” I say flatly, all emotion leaching from my voice. Hell, if no one else wants to show me any tenderness, why should I give any?
“Good. Get gone,” he snarls through clenched teeth, but I see his eyes
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