|Ch. 10|

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After getting help from his guards, Chase stood at the end of the bed staring at her bound ankles and wrists. Of course, she struggled against the rope around her wrists and ankles. He hadn't tied up her ankles at first, but after she kicked him in the balls again, he tied, tightly I might add, he had no other choice but to tie her ankles to the bed too. With the help of one of his guards, of course. Zhari was a strong woman.

"Let me go, you bastard!" She yelled.

Chase, ignoring her, goes over to the bedside dresser, opens the top drawer and pulls out a pair of scissors before moving to stand at the end of the bed.

"What the fuck are you holding those for?" Zhari snapped as she watched him climb into the bed.

"Shut the fuck up." He spat before he proceeded to cut the legs of her pants from her ankles to her waist, but not without struggle. Zhari wouldn't stop wiggling.

In one shift pull, he snatched her now torn up pants from beneath her, leaving her with her shirt on and royal blue lace panties. She started to wiggle around even more when he reached for her shirt. She wasn't going to make it easy for him.

Fuck that.

The bastard already kidnapped her and he seems to love wrapping his fingers around her throat and pinning her to walls and shit. She wasn't about to let him enjoy unclothing her.

"Be still, damnit."

"Bite me." She snapped.

He smiled up at her. "Oh, I will."

Quick to cut her shirt up the middle, Chase pulled it out from her and tossed it on the floor along with the scissors. His eyes never left her body. She was so curvy. He'd never seen a body like hers. Thick and curvy. He never knew he liked thick women until he laid eyes on her again after so many years. He loved every part of her body and everything that came with it. He didn't care about the few stretch marks on her stomach and thighs, or the scars on her wrists, though he would have a talk with her about them. He didn't like where his mind drifted to when he saw the scars.

He went to climb into the bed but was interrupted when the door flew open.

Kelly.

"Chase, what are you -" she looked over at the bed at a damn near naked Zhari. "Uh, she's um. Wow."

Chase watched his wife, from the corner of his eye, drop her bag to the floor and walk over to the bed. He watched as she reached out and ran her fingers down Zhari's thigh.

"Don't touch me!" Zhari snapped.

Kelly glared down at her.

"I wouldn't be a bitch right now. You're tied to this fucking bed and I can anything I want to you."

Zhari glared at her. "Chase, you better get this bitch before you wind up a fucking widow."

Chase smiled. "Get out, Kelly."

Kelly turned to her husband with a glare. "Why? So you can fuck her? I don't think so."

Chase, for the first time since Kelly walked into the room, tore his gaze from a steaming Zhari and gave his wife his full attention. Well, full on glared at her. If looks could kill, she would already be dead. He then closed the distance between them, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you think I give a fuck about you being in here? I don't. I can, and I will, fuck her anytime I want whether you are in the room or not. Now, like I said before, get the fuck out, now, before I untie her and let her fuck you up, up, down and all around this damn house."

Kelly swallowed and took a step back and looked over at Zhari. "What happened to you not wanting my husband?" she hissed before turning to walk out.

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