bonus 02 • where it all began

                                    

                                          
*before Lizzie met Ryan*
R E E C E
The rational part of me knows how blasphemous it is of me to have an unconscious woman thrown over my shoulder as I step into my penthouse.
My one-night stand is hastily dressed in my shirt, only accompanied by her lace underwear which I fought not to shred last night when I slipped my hand between her legs. She was soaked for me, the sticky fabric pasted to the shape of her perfect tight pussy. Even now with the scent of her so strong all over me, I am fighting a losing battle with my cock to keep it down.
"Don't you think it's a bit over the top?" my manager, Hanson, says weakly. "You kidnapped the girl."
He is close behind us, hands in the pockets of his long coat, glasses fitted above the bridge of his nose, and his hair askew because he had been running his fingers through them all the way.
"It's not over the top when it's necessary, Hanson," I spill through clenched teeth, ignoring the guilty twist in my gut that very much screams that it is wrong.
"But you could have talked to her at the hotel. Why bring her here? It'll create more suspicions."
"Shut the fuck up, Hanson. I don't pay you to hear your opinions."
He stops with a jolt, leaving me to proceed further ahead of him as I head for my bedroom.
"Sorry. Just wanted to confirm if you're in your right mind," he says.
I stop in my tracks, turning to face him with an arched brow. "Don't ever speak to me like that, Hanson. Remember, I'm much much worse than Ryan when it comes to firing people."
That is a lie and he knows that. He knows I am not firing him ever. He is the reason I still manage to get any of Ryan's work done on time. Without him, it would be like I have cut off my dominant arm.
Still, Hanson manages to look ashamed as he stares at the floor, not in his mind to follow me anymore.
"Sorry, Sir."
I curl my fingers tighter around the girl's thighs, gliding my upper teeth over my bottom lip before continuing to proceed toward my bedroom.
The girl - Lizzie Gold - lets out a soft groan which tells me that she would be up any minute. I had chloroformed her just a little so that she didn't wake up while on the journey.
I enter my bedroom, shut the door, and click the lock shut.
Walking over to the king-sized bed in the center, I bend low, dropping the girl gently in the bed on her back. She squirms when her lithe body meets the soft mattress and an exhausted moan slips from her mouth.
A smirk tugs at my lips as I straighten, crossing my arms as I take a certain deviant pleasure in watching her in her sleep-infused state but fighting to open her eyes. The curtains in the room are still drawn tight, not letting any light in yet. The only glow is from the warm ceiling lights in the corners and the lamp on top of the nightstand.
When she does manage to open them, she blinks a few times, looking through the netty-encrusted big brown eyes. Those eyes land on me and she raises herself on her elbows, my shirt hitching up around her thighs, giving a glimpse of the panties underneath. I look on like a pervert, noting every movement of her heaving chest as realization starts to dawn upon her.
"Good morning," I greet cheerily like a psychopath who is so close to conquering his faultlessly laid-out plans.
"Good morning..." she starts, then hisses when she notices the change in her surroundings. "What the..."