“Wait! Stop!” Leilani said through gritted teeth. She involuntarily curls her fingers into a fist.
“Got you,” he gloats.
He smiles coldly, satisfied with her response. He’d called her bluff, and she has revealed her true emotions. He’d never paid much attention to her before; if Leilani hadn’t visited her nanny last night, he still wouldn’t know her weakness.
“You’re contemptible!” she hisses.
Waylen laughs. “Can you be a good girl?” he asks.
Leilani scowls at him. She wants to tear his face to pieces. Unperturbed, he presses his hand onto her thigh. He’s surprised to feel a hard lump in her pocket—the bottle of medicine Dr. Meyers gave to her. She attempts to reach for the bottle in her pocket as Waylen begins to roughly rub and caress her thigh. She can feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of her dress.
“What is it?”
The warm air of his breath tickles her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. As he continues to stroke her thighs, he pushes the medicine bottle out of her pocket and holds it against her inner thigh.
She can’t help but tremble as she answers, “Medicine.”
“What kind of medicine?”
“Cold medicine,” she says, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. It was almost impossible to get the pills; she can’t let him take them away from her.
Waylen smiles coldly but does not attempt to inspect the medicine. Instead, he starts to push the bottle between her legs, rubbing it against the fabric of her underwear. He slowly rubs it back and forth as if he’s punishing her.
“You’re a monster!” she seethes.
She struggles to escape Waylen’s grasp, but she fails.
“You asshole!” she screams, “What are you doing?!”
“Keep cursing,” he whispers, “I like being cursed. Especially when you do it.”
Leilani has nothing to say to this.
“Last chance,” he warns, “What kind of medicine is it?”
“I’ll tell you, but let go of me first!”
In desperation, she tries to kick Waylen, but she can’t even move her leg; his lower body is pressed too tightly against hers.
“You just lost your last chance.”
Waylen grabs her shoulders and roughly pushes her so her whole body is pressed into the door.
“Fine, I’ll tell you what it is,” she says, tired of provoking him.
“Mrs. Bamford,” Waylen says, claiming her as his.
He buries his head in her neck and inhales deeply. Her familiar fragrance fills his nose. It overpowers his senses, exciting and arousing him.
He pulls away and looks at her anxious expression.
“It’s late. And I’m suddenly less interested in knowing what it is,” he says.
He slides his hand underneath her skirt and up her thigh. Suddenly and swiftly he rips the delicate fabric of her underwear and pulls the torn cloth away from her body.
“You filthy beast!”
Leilani gathers her strength, bracing herself against the door. She pushes and pushes and manages to create a few inches of space between their bodies. Before she can make another move, he slams her back into the door. He presses his body against hers even more firmly, and she feels something hot and hard pushing against her leg.
“You’re a sick man!” she shouts.
Waylen places his hand on the back of her neck and forces her head upwards. She stares at him with wide eyes as he leans down to kiss her. He kisses her deeply and forcefully, like a hungry predator. He moves his other hand to her chin, firmly holding her head in place, and deepens the kiss. He wraps her hair around his fingers and presses his leg between her thigh; his entire body is entangled with hers. He holds her so tightly, she can barely breathe.
He pulled away from the kiss and she squinted at him. He feels intoxicated by the kiss. His eyes are wild and his breathing is heavy, but she thinks she sees an expression of sorrow behind the savage passion.
“Close your eyes when I kiss you!” he commands.
She refuses and widens her eyes instead. He smiles then, making a sound halfway between a hum and a roar. She feels his chest vibrate against hers.
“Woman, you are very disobedient.”
Leilani hears the sound of a zipper sliding down.
“But this dress doesn’t have a zipper,” she thinks, “Where is it coming from?”
Sudden awareness flashes in her eyes—Waylen’s trousers! Without warning, Waylen slams himself into her body. It’s so painful that she bites down on his lip and tastes blood. Her hands clenched into fists and her delicate nails break against the palms of her hands.
Fortunately, he only thrusts once, and then to her surprise, he stops.
“Why does he stop,” she wonders, “Doesn’t he want to finish? Has he changed his mind?”
She grimaces through the pain.
“Oh, is there no lube?” she asks dryly, “Must be because you’re such a terrible s.e.x.u.a.l partner. You can’t even turn me on.”
“There’s no lube because of you!” Waylen looks at Leilani meaningfully and pulls his d.i.c.k from her body, “You know, I think Leonie might have been better than you. At least she was wet and ready for me.”
Leilani fumes, “He is such a sick bastard!”
She wants to scream and curse and call him every horrible name she can think of. She feels the cold air on her body, and she realizes Waylen has let go of her. He watches her like he’s suddenly bored.
“I will wait for you to come to my bed tonight,” he tells her, “If you’re not there and ready for me by 3 AM, I can’t guarantee your nanny’s safety.”
He bends down and picks up her torn, black lace underwear. He stuffs the fabric into his pocket and walks toward the door.
Give me my underwear!” she screams.
She can’t believe it. He’s putting her underwear in his pocket like some kind of sick pervert!
Waylen ignores her and walks out of the club and into the night.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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