The cold metal skims my throat, tracing a path between my collarbones all the way down to the center of my chest.
A suspended silence hangs in the air as static fills my thoughts, adrenaline amplifying the featherlight touch. He tips the blade up, the sharp and deadly point a hairsbreadth from piercing the cage where my beating heart resides.
A drop of crimson leaks from my skin, capturing his attention.
“Have you figured it out yet?” His sinful voice slides over me like silk, triggering a full-body shiver.
I nod as the realization hits me.
Fear.
That was the first line on my list.
“Good,” he breathes. “Let’s see if you’re as adventurous in reality.”
I swallow.
What does that even mean?
He tilts the blade again and uses the flat edge to tease one of my nipples through the satin material of my dress. It’s a slow form of torture—another mindfuck, because he’s not even touching me directly, but now it’s all I can think about.
What would he feel like?
I choke on the pleasure that bleeds up my throat, trying and failing to squeeze my legs shut for some much-needed friction. He edges closer, the heat of his body pressing into my back as his attention shifts to the thigh-length slit of my dress. Using the blade, he drags the hem all the way up, exposing my thong.
When the cold metal glides over the tiny triangle of material, I jolt at the sensation.
“There’s not an ounce of pride left in you, is there?” he goads me. “What would your fiancé say if he could see you right now?”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know. Want to see if he’s available? Maybe he could give you some pointers?—"
A humorless laugh cuts through the air. There’s something so eerily calm about his demeanor as he slips the blade beneath theband of my thong and slices through one side, then the other. But beneath the surface, I can sense the shift in him. It’s like a shadow stepping into its own darkness.
“I’m glad you like games,cara.” He tugs the scraps of fabric and tosses them aside, leaving me bare and exposed. “I want to play one now.”
The cool air hits the most vulnerable part of me, setting every nerve on fire. I hate that he was right. I don’t have an ounce of pride left beneath the anticipation thrumming through my veins.
He circles around to my front and lowers to his haunches. I nearly jump out of my skin when he clamps a large hand around my thigh and slides it down to my calf. He wields the blade with shocking efficiency as he slices through the restraints on each of my ankles.
Uncertainty paralyzes me as he rises and returns the blade to its sheath. Regardless, it doesn’t matter if I can move because he does it for me. He pulls me from the chair and forces me to walk, steering me from behind using my bound wrists.
I comply until I realize he’s pushing me toward the guard railing on the edge of the rooftop.
“Wait.” I stop and jerk back, trying to dig my feet into the floor beneath me.
“Oh, Abella.” Amusement darkens his voice as he yanks me against his body and clamps an arm around my waist. He picks me up with the same effort he’d use to lift a pillow. “I could launch you off this rooftop without even trying if I felt like it. I guess I’ll have to be careful with you.”
A wave of adrenaline sweeps through me as he hauls me toward the only barrier between solid ground and a 60-story freefall. I resume my fight, but he proves his point by hindering every attempt I make to free myself from his grasp. I’ve neverconsidered myself weak, but when it comes to his size and strength, I’m no match.
Cold dread settles in my gut as we reach the perimeter and he sets me upon my feet, only to grab my bound wrists and bend me over the railing.
A scream rips from my lungs as gravity pulls me forward, my feet losing purchase as I dangle precariously over the metal biting into my hips. I stare down the open grave of the city streets below, his grip around my wrists my only lifeline.
In that moment, everything comes into focus. The distance from the rooftop to the sidewalk below. The breeze rustling strands of my hair. The blood rushing to my head. Every sense is heightened as my mind races and my heart gallops.
“Please,” I beg.
“What’s the matter,bella? Don’t you trust me?”
