Chapter 3 Paimon's Little Mouse
The urge to give her a quick slap on her ass as she continued to squirm in my hold was strong, but I held myself back.
To be fair, I may have been saving her, but to her, I was the kidnapper.
She scratched and hissed, but she couldn’t do much damage to me. Her efforts were mediocre at best. If I were someone else, I would have laughed out loud. Where she thought she was a tiger, all I could see was a kitten.
With each step toward my private penthouse suite, I noticed she got quieter. And by the time we got to my bed, she had passed out, fast asleep and snoring softly even in the uncomfortable position she was in.
When I placed her on the bed, she jumped awake, her eyes locking onto mine with apprehension and fear.
In the light of my room, I could finally see her clearly.
Small round face, with simple dainty features.
Her eyes were what drew me in—sultry, slanted eyes—the type that always looked seductive without trying.
They were nearly the same color as her hair: a very rich, dark chocolate.
I had seen a lot of beautiful women in my life. Fucked a lot too. But something about her captivated me. It felt like a hurricane was at my back, pushing me toward her, leaving no room for resistance.
I leaned on the wall opposite the large queen-sized bed, deliberately putting as much space between us as possible.
"What's your name, kitten?"
"Kitten?" She looked offended at the nickname, which only meant I wouldn’t be changing it. Ever.
I had the sinking feeling I’d enjoy getting on her nerves more than anything. Her reaction sealed the nickname in permanent ink.
"What's your name?" I repeated the question.
"Like I'll tell you," she hissed, still fighting a losing battle with the alcohol. A little firecracker. This one.... Her eyes were closing on their own, but she fought to keep them open, growing frustrated when they kept dropping.
An angry, hissing kitten. Literally.
"You don't need to tell me anything. Sleep off the alcohol in your system. You can be on your way tomorrow. I'll leave the door open so you can leave. No one comes up here, so you're safe till morning."
With that, I pushed off from the wall and started walking toward the door. I needed to stay away. I just needed to be away from her, and I’d be back to normal. Yes. A little distance. Out of sight, out of mind.
"Wait, really?" I heard the disbelief in her voice without needing to turn around.
I didn’t respond. I just slipped from the room and kept walking as fast as my feet could carry me away from her.
If I couldn’t see her, maybe I wouldn’t be plagued with thoughts of consuming and claiming her.
She had no idea what seeing her in my bed was doing to me.
And I had a slight idea my little kitten wouldn’t appreciate my thoughts.
Besides, I had no plans to spend the night in my room. I had a mole to torture and four more miscreants to play with. That was my kind of fun—being surrounded by blood and ear-deafening wails.
Seeing the fear in the eyes of men, knowing I would be the last image they saw before judgment above… That was fun.
I stepped into the private elevator and pressed the key for the basement. The doors opened, leading me to a bright white corridor lined with several similarly colored doors.
I had the door to the dungeon earmarked with an infinity symbol right at the top of the door.
The putrid smell of blood and human innards greeted me immediately as I stepped into the dark room.
The mole was seated on an armless chair, his arms tied behind the chair back.
To the side, four figures had their hands tied above their heads to chains connected to the ceiling—their toes barely touching the ground.
"Well done, Jeffery."
"What can I say? I’ve prepared a table before you in the presence of your enemies."
I cracked my knuckles, one after the other.
It was time for a little fun.