Page 21 of Untamed
My balls draw up, and I snap my eyes open, grab the blender cup, and aim the tip of my cock inside. “Swallow it down, LittleBrat.” Cum shoots from my tip. “Take your vitamins like a good girl,” I pant into the room. “Take it all.”
The moment I come down from my orgasm, I tuck my spent cock away like I didn’t just jerk off, then scoop the fruit into the blender cup. Pure satisfaction takes over me as I place the lid on the cup, fix it on the machine, and switch it on. My lips curve into a smile, and I practically bounce on the balls of my feet as I head upstairs for a quick shower.
I have no time for a run before I take her to school today, but I can go on one after while I spend every step reliving the memory of her tasting me.
When I step into my bedroom, something feels off. I glance from side to side, but nothing looks out of place. Everything is just how I left it: the sheets are still pulled back, and every strategically placed item is in its place. Strange.
I shake my head and stride toward the bathroom, switching on the light. Leaning over the tub, I turn on the shower, then I drop my shorts and take a piss. After stepping into the warm spray, I let out a heavy sigh.
Today is going to be a good day. I’m already anticipating Thea’s next move; she’s going to come home from school and do exactly as I say. I grab my shower gel and close my eyes, then I rub it into my body to create a lather while imagining the way I would dominate her and spank her cute little ass into submission.
I crack my neck and open my eyes, but as I watch the suds slide into the drain, I realize the color of them is all wrong. Very fucking wrong.
They’re pink.
My eyes widen as I stare down at my pink-stained skin.
The little brat put her hair dye in my shower gel. Anger rushes through me; she’s going to pay for this.
“Thea!” I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist, then throw open my bedroom door. “Thea!” I slam her door open, but she’s not there.
Hell no, she better not have left without me again.
“Thea!” I rush down the stairs and come to a stop in the kitchen. The smoothie is gone, and so is she.
She’s going to pay for her little stunt. She won’t be able to sit down for a fucking month. Thea might think she’s in control here, but I’m about to remind her who the hell her daddy is.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MASSIO
Anger has me storming into her bedroom, and I slam the door behind me. The little brat thinks she’s being clever covering me in her shitty pink hair products. Well, I’m about to show her who’s really in charge. I need to stay on target, to seduce little Theodora to the point she can’t come back from, to hurt her like her mother hurt me. To destroy the pampered little princess and, in turn, destroy her mother.
Her bedroom is neat and tidy, unlike her chaotic first impression. It’s white and silver, with mirrored furnishings to match, making it appear more clinical than you’d expect from a teenage girl. It lacks character, and the thought causes something to twist deep inside my chest.
I head straight for her vanity table and scan it. The only things littering the table are the notebooks and a choker hanging from the mirror; no makeup or jewelry. I touch the ring on the choker, thinking I could break it, but the idea of seeing her wear it is far more appealing.
Maybe there’s something in these notebooks I could use against her. I pick one up and open it, expecting to find diary notes, but instead, there’re dozens of logo drawings. I flip through the pages, one after the other, various designs of brands I recognize and some I don’t. She’s recreated some familiar household names and drawn them into something new, fresher.
She’s talented, I’ll give her that. I wonder if she realizes how much.
I place the notebook back down and shuffle the pile about until I find one that looks different to the rest. It’s worn, pink, with tattered edges and a ripped cover, like someone tried to pull it apart but failed miserably.
When I open this one, my heart sinks, and I find myself shuffling back until my ass hits her bed and I can sit down.
There’s lots of dark scribble. It’s childlike and angry looking, but there’s no disguising the image in the center. It’s a drawing of a small girl on a floor with her legs pulled up to her chest and her head buried into her knees. Something tells me it was drawn from experience.
Sadness takes form, and my finger traces over the image of the girl. Loneliness and vulnerability radiate from the pages, and the stabbing pain in my chest intensifies the longer I stare at it.
My mouth becomes dry, and I slip my phone from my pants pocket to take a photo and send it off to Miko.
Me: Opinion?
Miko: A scared girl. She’s been hurt.
Miko: Who is it?
Me: Thea drew it.
