Nila
I COULDN’T MOVE.
I couldn’t stand up, breathe, think, or feel without being bombarded by agony. I’d never hurt so much. Not even after a tortuous fifteen-hour day huddled over a sewing machine, or twelve hours on my feet in stilettos.
I’d never been subjected to pain such as this.
To abeatingsuch as this.
And this was the easiest of the debts?
Terror clogged my throat at the thought of what the others entailed.
Movement caught my attention. I forced my tear-stained vision to focus on Jethro as he prowled to the ferns and reached into the foliage. What was he doing?
A second later he moved toward me, every step full of temper and thick, thick lust.
Shit.
I squirmed, tugging on the cuffs. Before the whipping, I would’ve willingly let him take me. Iwantedhim to.
But not like this.
Not like this!
Not when my brain wept with agony and my emotions were completely screwed up.
“No,” I groaned.
Jethro gritted his jaw, his hand disappearing into his jeans.
A keening wail clawed up my throat. I couldn’t let him fuck me. I hurt. So damn much. I wasn’t turned on or interested in the slightest. Icouldn’t stomach being molested further.
You don’t have a choice.
My heart cracked at the thought. No, I didn’t have a choice. He would take me. There was nothing I could do about it.
Apart from...
Appeal to the warmth you know is inside him. Make him listen. Make him see.
Jethro’s hands landed on my hips, yanking me away from the post. My body was jelly, my skin slick with sweat and blood.
Shaking my head, I moaned, “Please don’t touch me.”
Jethro’s only response was rubbing his thumbs in slippery circles on my damp hips.
Clamping my thighs together, I forced my depleted body to obey. My ankles crossed awkwardly, my breathing tattered. “Jethro—please...don’t do this.”
He froze, panting harshly in my ear. “You want me. You’ve toyed with me and offered yourself up every time we fight.” His forehead rested against my nape, his breath scattering down my spine. “Yet, now that I’m willing to throw away the fucking rule book, you decide you don’t want me?” His voice dripped with venom. “Make up your damn mind, woman.”
His knee tried to wedge between my legs, working its way to widen my thighs. I used every ounce of remaining strength to lock my knees tighter.
“Let me give it to you. Don’t take it. Not by force. Don’t make me ha—hate you more than I already do.” Tears torrented from the corners of my eyes.
Jethro sucked in a breath. “Goddammit.” His voice was alive and full of need. More alive than I’d ever heard him. Gone was the cold precision and careful calculation. He was hot-blooded and raging, and some part of me was flattered by his desire.
He wanted me.
