Page 36 of Breaking Rosalind
“What?” I snap.
“None. I was supposed to gather information on you via Leroi,” she says, her gaze dropping to the floor. “When he stopped responding to me and you came along?—”
“And you decided to take advantage of the opportunity?” I say through clenched teeth.
She shrugs.
“What kind of information?” I ask.
“Hidden entrances, security systems, and any weaknesses we can exploit.”
“Why?”
“They didn’t say,” she mutters. “I just gather the intel.”
“How did you remain undetected by the cameras?”
“A catsuit made of a fabric that disrupts infrared and thermal imaging. Before you ask, I dissolved it in the bath.”
Frustration wells in my gut, and I exhale through flared nostrils. We could have passed on the fabric to our meth team for analysis. “What about the drug?”
“I slipped oxypentanol in the vodka. It’s a formula developed by the firm’s research and development team,” she replies in a monotone. “I have a question for you. How did you wake up without the antidote?”
“What can I say, pet? I have a fantastic anatomy.”
Her gaze drops down to the erection straining through my pants. “I’ve had bigger.”
“And then Leroi moved onto someone less aggravating.”
She scowls, her lips pursing, mirroring my own displeasure. I leave her stewing in her own insecurities and walk to the section where I keep the restraints. After selecting handcuffs, leg irons, and a waist chain, I return to where she’s still trying to burn me to ash with the force of her glare.
“I’m going to release you for transportation. If you’re a good girl and behave yourself when I attach these restraints, I’ll grant you one request. Though I’m hoping you’ll be bad.”
“What happens if I don’t cooperate?” she asks.
“I’ll make you wish you’d lost that game of pussy roulette.”
She shudders. “Fine. I won’t resist.”
I position myself between her spread legs and unbuckle the first wrist cuff. Rosalind’s arm flops down to her thighs, a dead weight from being elevated for so long.
She groans with relief, the sound going straight to my aching cock.
“Good girl.” I move to the next cuff and release her arm, which also falls to her side.
As I turn to reach for a handcuff, a fist hits my balls with the intensity of a miniature freight train. Pain explodes through my groin. My knees buckle, and I drop to my floor, clutching my screaming testicles.
“Fuck!” I roar.
She leaps off the bondage chair, grabs my discarded shirt, and races out of the playroom.
Breathing hard through the agony, I make a count of three before rising to my feet and giving chase.
Rosalind is going to be my most exhilarating prey.
FIFTEEN
ROSALIND