“You wore a pretty dress for your little rockstar.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear—gentle, predatory. Meaning something is coming. Something I’m not going to like.
“Take it off.”
My heart hammers. His mouth hovers over mine—almost a kiss.
“You forget who I am, baby? Who you’re dealing with?”
Air vanishes. He holds me, silence thick as blood.
I choke out, “Jacob?—”
“No names. Now. Dress, off.”
I’m frozen.He releases me briefly, turning away—then the belt uncoils from his waist with cold precision.
"You think I'm soft?" he murmurs, voice scraping like a blade being sharpened. His pupils contract to pinpoints, eyes gone winter cold. The corner of his mouth twitches—not a smile, but something more primal. "You've pushed your luck to its breaking point. Now I'm going to carve the lesson into you until you can't remember a time before it."
He circles behind me, a predator closing in.My knees tremble as the belt whistles through the air.
“Off,” he snarls again, but I shake my head.
His hand clamps around my nape, burning. The other rips the dress in one savage slash from collarbone to hem.
The lilac fabric falls. I stand exposed—vulnerable. Humiliated.
“Mmmm,” he purrs. “Now, panties and bra, too”
“Jacob—”
He pulls a pocketknife from his trousers.
“Off, or I cut them off. Your choice,” he says, bluntly. Not giving me any room to argue.
I feel bile rising from a mixture of fear and adrenaline. Reluctantly, I unclip my bra, and then pull my pants off, stepping one foot out at a time. I wrap my arm around my breasts and hold one hand over my most personal area.
“No,” he snaps. “I want all of you.”
“Please—”
Before I can finish, he scoops me up and lays me flat on the dining table. The cold wood bites into my back, a shock that makes me gasp. My legs kick in reflex, a flicker of defiance, but he’s too strong. He’s always thrown me around like I’m built to be handled, and this time is no different.
“I warned you what would happen if you acted like a whore again,” he rasps, breathlessly. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, like he’s imagining all the ways he wants to destroy me.
“Now—let’s teach you what happens when you let other men think they have a fucking chance.”
My body’s a furnace—burning with want and loathing all at once. Desire for the devil who’ll destroy me, and disgust for the part of me that wants him to. My legs clamp together, and I try to roll onto my front, to give myself some cover from his wicked eyes, but he only laughs, low and dark.
“Rolling that way just gives me access to your ass, baby. And I’m sure that’s not what you want.” He chuckles, wicked and menacing.
My breath catches, and my whole body tightens. The thought of him tearing me open from there makes my skin crawl. It’s notsomething I’ve ever wanted to explore—with anyone. Least of all him. Least of all now. I roll onto my front, tears spilling down my cheeks, landing on the table one by one.
He leans over me, wiping the remnants of tears from my cheek, not gently, not like a lover, but like a claim. Like they belong to him, and he treasures every single one of them.
“Now. Open your legs and show me what I own.”
My core dies. My chest implodes and every bit of fight in me rises to attention.
“No,” I shout.
