I shake my head, my last attempt at clinging to my sanity. Sweat-slick hair sticks to my cheeks as I do.
I pray for my common sense to kick in, for this need to be cut out of me and…nothing.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t silence the butterflies. The heat. My heart that beats twice as fast for the man who’s responsible for my pain.
I’ve fallen for him.
Fuck, what’s happening to me?
“Skylar, last warning.” Knox rubs himself, root to tip. Seducing me. “Knees to the floor. I fucking need it.”
“What for?” I spit out, my voice hoarse from crying. From the shock. From taking him down my throat. “So you can cut off every part of me once you’re done?”
His hand stops, and he’s leveling me with a serious look that shatters the last of my defenses.
This isn’t a threat. It’s a promise. That he won’t harm me, no matter what.
At that, I fall to the floor.
Surrendering to my fate.
Surrendering to him.
“Maybe…” he starts.
“Maybe what?” My question comes out needy and slightly off. Arousal runs down my thighs, mingling with my blood. “Maybewhat?”
Instead of answering, his hand clamps around my wrist, right beneath my bloodied palm.
Gently, as if his cock isn’t bobbing in my face, as if he didn’t just cut me, he brings my wrist closer to his shaft.
The ease with which I submit to him exposes every lie I’ve told myself. I don’t hate it. I don’t hate him.
If I truly did, I never would’ve let him do this to me.
But no, I’m offering myself to my captor. I’m his obedient, lusting ragdoll, consenting to his sick treatment of me.
“Maybe I’m not the monster you think I am.” He presses his thumb to my wrist, making sure not to rub my own blood on his hand. “No, that’s not a maybe. That’s a guarantee. I’m nothing like your sister. Nothing like them.”
He guides my hand to his cock, closing my fingers around it.
My breath stutters. It isn’t fear stealing my air.
The raw sight of my blood smeared on his dick ignites heat low in my belly.
Wet, trembling, fully aware of what he wants from me, I need him.
And because I must be more fucked up than I thought, I look at him from beneath my lashes, hoping he feels the same.
“After Bronwyn said what she did, I…I thought…”
“You thought I was claiming you just so I could kill you, like I told them.” Looming over me, he guides my hand up and down his shaft. My blood slicks his beautiful skin red. “That’s okay. You’ll learn soon enough that I won’t. That I care about you.”
“You don’t even know me.” The words sound sane. Tightening my fingers around him is one of the most irrational things I’ve ever done. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Fuck,” he groans, forcing my hand to jerk him faster. “I cared the second you ordered those tickets—Motherfucker, that’s good.”
His hips drive into me, helping me stroke him, please him.
