The Landlord’s Forbidden Hands - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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"Mmm... that's it, just like that. Stop teasing, baby."
"This little firecracker was worth every damn risk."
"Wait... you're—you're not my husband!"
I gasped awake, my skin crawling with horror as I took in the scene—naked, bound, completely vulnerable.
Beside me, my husband lay hogtied on the cold floor, his face twisted in rage.
And standing over us? The boss. That sick bastard grinned down at me like a kid on Christmas morning.
He hooked a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes gleamed with something dark, something hungry.
"Awake already? Well, well... this just got a whole lot more fun."
My pulse pounded so hard I swore he could hear it. "What the hell do you want?" My voice shook, barely a whisper.
A low, throaty laugh rumbled from his chest. "Should’ve known better than to let you slip away this morning, sweet thing. That useless husband of yours? He doesn’t deserve a woman like you."
His fingers dragged down my cheek. I jerked away, bile rising in my throat.
I twisted against the ropes, but they bit deeper into my skin with every movement.
"Save your energy, darling. I usually go for single ladies, but you?" His tongue flicked over his lips. "Irresistible."
Tears burned my eyes. "You’re a monster! This is—this is rape!"
"Crime?" His breath was hot against my ear. "No evidence, no case. And you, my dear... are worth every damn sin."
His hands shoved my thighs apart. His gaze raked over me like I was a feast, and he was starving.
"Perfect..."
"Don’t you fucking touch her!" My husband bucked against his restraints, veins popping in his neck.
The boss smirked. "Oh, I’ll do more than touch her. And you? You’ll watch."
Cold fingers skated down my stomach, creeping lower.
"Divine," he purred, one hand working his belt buckle.
I sobbed, thrashing uselessly against the ropes.
My husband roared, his entire body straining—but the bindings held.
"Woo... woo..."
(Sirens. Distant, but closing in.)
"This little firecracker was worth every damn risk."
"Wait... you're—you're not my husband!"
I gasped awake, my skin crawling with horror as I took in the scene—naked, bound, completely vulnerable.
Beside me, my husband lay hogtied on the cold floor, his face twisted in rage.
And standing over us? The boss. That sick bastard grinned down at me like a kid on Christmas morning.
He hooked a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes gleamed with something dark, something hungry.
"Awake already? Well, well... this just got a whole lot more fun."
My pulse pounded so hard I swore he could hear it. "What the hell do you want?" My voice shook, barely a whisper.
A low, throaty laugh rumbled from his chest. "Should’ve known better than to let you slip away this morning, sweet thing. That useless husband of yours? He doesn’t deserve a woman like you."
His fingers dragged down my cheek. I jerked away, bile rising in my throat.
I twisted against the ropes, but they bit deeper into my skin with every movement.
"Save your energy, darling. I usually go for single ladies, but you?" His tongue flicked over his lips. "Irresistible."
Tears burned my eyes. "You’re a monster! This is—this is rape!"
"Crime?" His breath was hot against my ear. "No evidence, no case. And you, my dear... are worth every damn sin."
His hands shoved my thighs apart. His gaze raked over me like I was a feast, and he was starving.
"Perfect..."
"Don’t you fucking touch her!" My husband bucked against his restraints, veins popping in his neck.
The boss smirked. "Oh, I’ll do more than touch her. And you? You’ll watch."
Cold fingers skated down my stomach, creeping lower.
"Divine," he purred, one hand working his belt buckle.
I sobbed, thrashing uselessly against the ropes.
My husband roared, his entire body straining—but the bindings held.
"Woo... woo..."
(Sirens. Distant, but closing in.)
End of The Landlord’s Forbidden Hands Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to The Landlord’s Forbidden Hands book page.