Chapter 26 CRAZY THINGS
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SAMANTHA’S POV
The moment I stepped out in that dress, the entire hallway seemed to hold its breath. Gasps rippled through the maids like a sudden wind. Heads turned, eyes widened. I used to walk rooms like this back when life still made sense runways and in my lil business meetings.
The red silk clung to my curves, the deep slit riding high on my thigh with every movement. It was beautiful. It was dangerous. And it made me feel exposed and pretty.
“You look beautiful, child,” Nanny said, her voice soft with genuine warmth. She clasped her hands together like she was witnessing something sacred.
I managed a small smile, cheeks heating. I wished Micky were here. She’d squeal and declare me an angel, no hesitation. The thought of her sweet face almost steadied me.
Whispers followed me down the corridor. “She’s stunning…” “How does a Mutate look like that?” “He’s going to lose his mind…” They weren’t wrong about the last part. But none of them were the ones wearing the humiliation and punishment i face daily. They got paychecks. I got survival.
“Nanny!” Kane’s voice thundered from outside
“She’ll be down any minute, sir,” Nanny called back calmly. Then she turned to me, squeezing my hand. “Be careful tonight. When he’s been out, he comes back… different. Things he overlooks here? He won’t tonight.” Her eyes held mine, heavy with warning.
I nodded, throat tight, and descended the stairs.
He was waiting at the bottom.
Kane stood there in all black…long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, trousers tailored sharp, gold chain glinting against his collarbone. The man looked carved from shadow and sin. Insanely handsome. My stomach flipped before I could stop it. I hated how my body reacted, how my gaze lingered on the way the fabric stretched over his shoulders, the controlled power in his stance. He wasn’t a good man. He was the reason my hand still stinged from the burn he’d inflicted. I repeated it like a mantra: Stop it, Sam.
His eyes locked on me dark and unreadable. I swore he drank in every inch the way the dress hugged me, the bare skin of my thigh through the slit. Heat crawled up my neck.
“Let’s go,” he said, voice low and final. No compliment. No softness. Just command.
Maybe I’d imagined the stare. Maybe I was losing it.
The car waited outside-sleek, black, the kind of luxury that screamed money and menace. We slid into the backseat. The driver was the only other person; Kane’s men followed in a separate vehicle. The partition was up, but it didn’t feel private. Nothing did with him.
I sat rigid, hands folded in my lap, trying not to look at the man beside me. A Mutate next to the one who owned her. Side by side in leather seats that probably cost more than my old life. I had no idea where we were headed, only that coming back alive wasn’t guaranteed.
I stole glances. He was glued to his phone, face illuminated by the screen, expression closed off. He’d barely spoken since I arrived in this house. Words from him were rare, expensive things. I stared at my bandaged hand instead. The burn still ached under the medicine. He did this. The reminder grounded me.
Then he dropped the phone onto the seat between us.
His gaze slid over. Down to the slit of my gown, where the fabric parted over my thigh.
I snatched my purse, pressing it over the exposed skin, heart slamming. Too late.
“Do you know how to suck?” His voice was rough, quiet thunder.
I blinked. “Uhmm?”
He didn’t repeat it gently. “Do you?”
My mind scrambled. Fear and something hotter twisted in my gut. I was already walking a razor’s edge. One wrong move and I’d bleed.
“Yes, Master. I can.”
He held my eyes for a beat. Then he reached down and started unbuckling his belt. The metallic clink echoed in the quiet car.
“It’ll be a long ride,” he said, almost casual.
I glanced at the driver in shock. The man kept his eyes straight ahead, hands steady on the wheel like we didn't exist. No shame. Nothing.
Kane freed himself. His cock sprang out….thick, veined, hard. The same one that had been inside me twice before. Big. Intimidating. Beautiful in a terrifying way.
Shock froze me. Fear. Nervousness. A rush of everything at once.
I reached out, fingers trembling, and wrapped them around him. He let out a low moan, It vibrated through me. Did I do that? Could I affect him?
I leaned down. My lips closed over the tip, tentative at first. Then I took more, sliding back and forth, tongue swirling the way I used to tease a lollipop when no one was watching. Slow. Careful.
“Fuck,” he groaned, hips shifting slightly.
I kept going, refusing to look up at his face. Heat pooled low in my belly. I hated it. I hated how my body responded, how my thighs pressed together instinctively.
His hand found my hair. Not gentle. Firm. Guiding. The tug sent a wild spark straight through me down my spine, between my legs. I needed… something. His touch. More. I didn’t understand it, but I felt it.
“Ahh…” Another low sound from him. Pride flickered in my chest, stupid and unwanted. Maybe this would earn me mercy. Maybe he’d forgive whatever sin I’d committed tonight.
“Don’t stop,” he rasped. “I’m cumming.”
His grip tightened. His body tensed. Then hot liquid flooded my mouth, spilling over my tongue. He groaned deep, head falling back against the seat, chest rising and falling hard.
I swallowed what I could. The rest dripped down my chin. My whole body buzzed….shaky, aroused, confused. Was I really turned on right now? After everything?
He passed me his handkerchief without a word.
I wiped my mouth, the corners, the spill on my skin. Silent. Numb.
The second it was done, he tucked himself away, buckled up, and picked up his phone again. Like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just unraveled me in the back of his car while his driver pretended not to exist.
I sat back, lips tingling, heart pounding, the taste of him still on my tongue. The city lights streaked past the tinted windows. We kept driving into the night.