“I never asked to be entertained. You’re the one who came to my jail cell,” she points out.
Irritated at being called out, I lash back. “This is the nicest place you’ve ever laid your head, so I hardly think it’s any real trial to spend a week here.”
“Karin Vieth is my mother,” Cora retorts. “We live quite nicely, thanks very much. And what happened to making yourself available so that I can seduce you?”
“So you admit it,” I snarl.
“Of course I admit it,” she cries. “I’m here to fuck your brains out!”
My hands clench and unclench at my sides, wanting nothing more than to drag her across the table, rip her clothes off, and drive my cock so deep and hard into her that the shape of my shaft is imprinted permanently into her cunt. Nostrils flaring, I stomp out, slamming the door behind me. I don’t trust her or myself at this point.
Chapter 4
Cora
I stare up at the beautiful coffered ceiling, bored out of my mind. I’m used to being hidden away. It’s how I’ve spent most of my life. My mom keeps me tucked away from the rest of the world. Usually if there is something I need it’s either brought to me or I’m whisked away in the back of a blacked-out car to get it, then brought right back before anyone could see me. What I’m not used to is being alone all of the time.
I’ve been alone since that woman Kailler showed up an hour after Aidon stomped off to bring me a tray of lovely desserts last night. I’d eaten them and passed out from boredom. When I woke up, a breakfast cart was waiting. It was a small feast that included a few breakfast desserts. I’d found myself waiting to eat, thinking Aidon was going to join me, but he never did.
I know I shouldn’t expect him to, but for some reason I enjoy his company. I should be scared of him and the stories I’ve heard, but I don’t feel that in the least. Instead, I find myself wanting to verbally spar with him and push him. I’m curious about him. I’ve never spent this much time with a man before. It’s turning out to be more interesting than I thought it would be.
Yawning, I sit up, still trying to think how I’d gone so wrong. My mom told me it would be easy for me to seduce Aidon. What if the plan is for me to fail or there isn't a plan at all? I could be her last resort. Maybe she doesn’t think I can seduce him, and really she’s only buying time. If I fail, she dies.
I wouldn't put it past my mom for her to be getting things in order for her death, making sure everything is in place and that her empire doesn’t crumble if she no longer exists. I swallow the knot in my throat, not wanting my mind to go there. If I think about Aidon killing my mother, I will never be able to seduce him.
The loud ding of the elevator has me springing to my feet. Someone is here. A mix of nerves and excitement bubbles up in my stomach. When the elevator opens, two big men step off, carrying the large vintage trunk that usually sits at the end of my bed at home. The moment of disappointment I felt at it not being Aidon washes away briefly. At least I have some of my things. It’s a small comfort, but I’ll take it.
They walk a few feet into the room and set the trunk down on the floor. I notice the lock is undone. “You opened it,” I accuse them.
Neither of them responds to me. I head over to it and flip it open. I immediately see my clothes and a few books. I grab one and pick it up.
“Where is my Kindle?” I sound like a spoiled brat who got her favorite toy taken away from her. I suppose I am, but it’s not the Kindle I’m really interested in.
“Kindle?” the taller one asks. I wonder if all men are this big, or only the ones that work for Aidon. On TV they aren’t this massive; they seem to come in all shapes and sizes. I would definitely consider these men to be in the XL category. None of them are as tall as Aidon, but these two are built. It amazes me that the girls back home can have men like them on their knees with a few laughs and smiles. At least that’s how I imagine they do it in my head from some of the stories I’ve heard.
“Never mind,” I mumble. The shorter man walks over to my untouched breakfast cart. He begins to lift the lids, inspecting them to see what I’ve eaten. It’s a strange thing to do. Why would anyone care how much or what I’m eating?