I love having her body completely under my control like this. My fears over her running away vanish temporarily and I can experience what it might be like to have Damara here and only have to worry about loving her instead of all the additional work it takes to keep her.
“Have you lost your mind, Magnum?” she hisses as she continues to fight against my binds. Contrary to her belief, my thoughts are more clear than they have been in a while. I have Damara right where I want her and a firm conviction that I won’t let her go until I satisfy every last one of my emotional needs.
Although, I’ll have to satisfy my physical needs as well.
“No. The most reasonable thing I could do given your behavior is take extreme measures to ensure our daughter grows up with two parents who love each other.”
“Really?” she grunts as she makes a futile effort to separate her bound legs. I’m proud of the job I’ve done and watching her failing at escape only causes the pride to swell in my chest. “Because Ihate you,Magnum Sinclair. I can see why they call you Condom. It’s because everything about you is as disgusting and uncouth as dried up semen!”
Her specificity and the venom in Damara’s insults should hurt my feelings, but instead I revel in my utter sense of control over her. She can fight and bitch about what I’m doing as much as she wants, but there’s not much else she can do but run her mouth until she gets tired and eventually – Damara will give in.
Chapter Twenty-One
Damara
This isn’t the trap I thought Magnum would set up for me, but it’s damn good, I’ll give him that. I can’t move my feet and I can’t move my wrists either. Magnum struts around his bedroom with self-satisfaction and a tiny white towel wrapped around his waist. None of my hardest kicks made a dent in this psychopath’s body. He’s pure muscle. It shouldn’t turn me on as much as it scares me, but I’m only human and my body has the unfortunate response to Magnum’s first time sleeping with me that I feel a strange, primal bond with him.
I need to get much better about my taste in men if I find the man who knocked me up and tied me to the bed sexy as fuck. Magnum doesn’t have any control over his emotions or his mental health if he’s willing to stoop this low to get what he wants from me. When I scream as loudly as possible that I hate him, I assume my outrage will cause Magnum to see reason. I couldn’t have been more mistaken.
He stands in my line of sight and drops his towel, forcing me to get a face full of his bare, pierced dick. That monster is even more terrifying when it’s soft, because he’s still huge. The tip of his cock drops far past the midpoint of Magnum’s long femur.He’s so enormous that the way I have to analyze and compare his body to mine feels downright creepy.
He could crush me with one hand. He might plan to. Magnum’s baseball bat dick swings between his legs as he bares himself to me with a proud smile creeping across his villainous face. My fight hasn’t disappeared just yet. I don’t know what “truth” Magnum wants me to admit, but I’m not going to let him tie me up and make me kiss his ass. No fucking way.
“I told you the truth, Magnum. I’ll fuck you, I’ll run our little business. I’ll do whatever the hell you want me to do, but there’s no point in forcing emotions.”
“You are such a fucking liar.”
His cock twitches as a pulse of rage shoots through him. I wouldn’t be surprised if I made him horny and angry at the same time, even if it’s a dangerous ass combination.
“What is your problem, Magnum?”
Magnum’s voice trembles with rage. “We love each other. We clearly love each other.”
The audacity of his emotional response just makes me want to slap him. I yank unconsciously against his stupid leather belts again. Magnum’s cock grows semi-erect in front of me, only increasing my absolute loathing for him.
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Yes,” he snarls at me, burning through my skin with that penetrating predator’s gaze of his. My desire to slap him only grows. I hate Magnum so much that my skin burns.
“So have I,” my voice trembles as I snap at him. “I’ve been wrong every damn time. This isn’t any different than the other fucked up situations I’ve ended up in.”
He hates the idea that he might be indistinguishable from the other white men who wanted to claim me. I don’t want to be bonded to Magnum for life out of some bizarre sense ofobligation or worse, to fulfill a dark fetish that he has because women like me are taboo in his world.
“This isn’t different, pink hair?” Magnum sneers at me. He has an obsession with bringing up my pink hair. It just serves my point that he sees me as an exotic object. “You’re a mean, terrible woman. With no damn heart.”
“Why the hell should I have a heart for you?”
“Because this shit matters to me,” Magnum yells back at me. “You think I wanted to have a kid with a woman who hates my guts?”
He trembles with rage and grabs another belt from his top drawer. My heart pounds out of control. I don’t hate Magnum. What I feel for him might be complicated and I don’t know if I would call it love, but it’s not hate either. He brings up much more complex emotions, which are difficult to define. How can he expect me to understand an inner world that’s entirely new to me?
Letting men into your private inner world for anything other than your personal pleasure is downright naive and something we should save for the young folks. I’m too old to give myself away to a man. This pink-haired I-don’t-give-a-fuck era was supposed to be all mine. Not Magnum’s. Not my Mormon ex-husband’s. Not even my sister’s. I especially never thought I would bring another life into the world.
“I care about you,” Magnum continues, barely containing his rage and all the other intense emotions pressing up against that wall of anger. “I could have had a kid any time I wanted. I have more money than anyone in the club and plenty of women who want it. I never entertained the idea of screwing around.”
I sense the weight of his past regrets hanging around Magnum’s neck. The one part of our lives that both of us secretly share but never discuss is that we both thought our chances ofhaving a kid had slipped by us. Sure, biologically it might have still been possible but we weren’t ready for it to happen like this.
“What do you want me to say?” I ask him, heart pounding through my chest as my vulnerability expands into a new dimension. I’ve never been in this position before either and that scares me almost as much as my future with Magnum. I spent my teens and early twenties chasing after men who didn’t give a shit about me. I don’t know how to look a man in the eye who cares – whowantsto care.
