The Bad Guy

A low laugh wrapped around me like a dark fur stole. “You can’t hide yourself from me. I’m the only one who’s ever seen you.” His voice faded, as though he were speaking to someone else nearby, and I couldn’t make out the words.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and refusing to entertain visions of the two of us writhing in the grass along the tree line. It was wrong, beyond sick, and just the sort of messed up image that made my insides twist.

“We’ll continue this tonight.” Impatience colored his words, and then he went quiet.

I worked for a little while longer, struggling to focus on my tasks. How could a few coarse words from his lips light such a fire inside me? I couldn’t get them out of my mind, and my body reacted as if he were here whispering into my ear, his hands on me like they were every night. I forced myself to focus, going task by task until I had a working rhythm. The thoughts wouldn’t stay silent, cropping up whenever I gave my mind a chance to wander.

When I accidentally potted a trailing vine in a mix of clay and manure instead of the sandy loam it required, I ripped my gloves off and tore out of the greenhouse. Thoughts of our bodies twisting together, of him making good on his claims that I was his roiled in my brain. I had to rid myself of the thoughts, to shut them down so I could focus on the bigger picture.

Timothy balanced atop a ladder in the foyer while hanging a wide swag of Christmas greens above the door. He’d been decorating all morning.

“I’m taking a nap,” I blurted and took the stairs two at a time.

“All right,” he called from behind me. “I won’t bother you. Just use the call switch next to the door when you’re ready to…”

I didn’t look back at him, just sought the bedroom like a missile. After hitting the mechanism that allowed the door to close, I was alone, secreted away from Sebastian’s eyes. He wouldn’t know. As far as he was concerned, I was taking an early afternoon nap.

My shirt hit the floor first, then my sports bra, jeans, and panties. I lay on the bed and stared up at the chandelier. I’d seen Timothy taking apart the small camera that had been embedded in one of the decorative arms. It was gone. Even so, I pulled the sheet over me, the slight contact with my aching nipples sending a wave of need through me.

I closed my eyes and spread my legs, letting my fingers find their way to the tight bud of nerves. One stroke of my middle finger, and a low moan rose from my lungs.

I was primed, ready to end my torment in an explosion of bliss. My mind created its own scenario, one that was as wrong as it was erotic. Sebastian loomed over me, his perfect body on full display. I was spread beneath him, giving him a show as he watched me touch myself. I stared into his emerald eyes as he stroked his thick cock, the muscles along his neck bulging from the strain.

“Don’t come.” His voice was deep, hoarse. “Not yet. Your orgasm belongs to me.”

I circled my clit, teasing it before delving inside and pulling my wetness onto my hot flesh. My moans grew louder in both fantasy and reality.

Sebastian licked his full lips. “Spread wider for me.” He put his knees on the bed and stroked his cock down the length of my pussy.

I arched, my fingers playing my favorite tune. “Sebastian.”

He smirked. “I told you this was it. That you were mine.” His cock head pressed against my opening. “Now you’re going to feel it.” He pushed inside in a harsh movement, claiming me with a sure stroke.

I cried out and bit my lip. The delicious mental image pushed me to the edge, my body on the verge of letting go.

Sebastian grabbed my hair and pulled, then fastened his mouth to my neck as he pumped into me, each stroke driving me wilder than the last. My legs began to shake, the sensations overwhelming me.

“Sebastian, please,” I whimpered.

“This is just the beginning.” His voice in my ear, his body owning mine—I couldn’t take it.

I came on a long, low moan, my body folding tight before exploding outward like a deck of cards. Parts of me scattered everywhere, though I kept the image of his intense green eyes. It stayed with me until I came back down, my lower back finally hitting the mattress once again. I breathed deeply, the lust fog clearing from my brain. Now I could concentrate, could stop thinking of Sebastian as anything other than my jailor.

“I just came in my office bathroom. Your name was on my lips.” Sebastian’s deep voice was almost breathy. “Fuck, that was hot.”