Those empty, soulless eyes bore into me. I grit my teeth to hold back the whimpers threatening to get out.
“And I’m not about to let you go anywhere,” he whispers. “So don’t waste your breath.” His fingers dig into my jaw, harder all the time. I can barely keep from crying out.
It’s like with Eric. I used to try so hard to stay quiet so he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of hearing me cry.
Except this sick piece of shit seems to like that. “You’re a tough one.” When he smiles, I start trembling—and this time, I can’t control it. “But you’ll break. They always do once I really get going. I’ll remember you fondly for a long time. Believe me.”
Like I care. Like I want him to.
Like I don’t already want to forget ever setting eyes on him.
He releases my jaw before continuing his slow walk around the table. I twist my hands around, trying to reach the buckles on the restraints, but it’s no use. It’s like being in a nightmare I can’t wake up from. The worst nightmare I’ve ever had.
Only there’s no actual pain in a nightmare.
When he climbs onto the table between my spread legs, I’m almost glad. He’ll fuck me and get it over with. Maybe he’ll be rough, but it won’t last forever. I’ll get through this.
“So perfect. Such smooth, soft skin.” He drags a hand over my calf, my thigh as he moves over my body. I have to take a deep breath to hold back the bile rising in my throat. A shudder of revulsion runs through me, which only makes him chuckle.
It’ll be over soon. He’s practically ready to come now. Yes, there’s precum dripping from the head of his substantial cock, now poised over my pussy. It won’t take long. It’ll be over soon.
Only he doesn’t shove his way inside me.
He doesn’t even touch me down there.
Instead, he straddles my hips, one leg on either side. I wonder if he plans on fucking my face or my tits or what. I don’t care, so long as he finishes. My heart’s about to pound out of my chest, and cold sweat is now rolling down the back of my neck.
It’s the waiting. The not knowing. That’s the worst part.
And he knows that, too, which is why he’s smiling as he strokes his dripping cock, poised over top of me. “Now, it’s time to really have some fun.”
Which is when he uses his free hand to reach into his back pocket and pulls out a switchblade.
All the air in my lungs leaves in one huge exhale, like somebody punched me in the stomach with all their might. He didn’t punch me, but he might as well have.
“No. No, no, no way.” My body takes over for me, bucking off the table. I barely feel the pain in my shoulders as I jerk my arms harder than ever.
He smiles wider than ever. “Shh. It’ll be over soon.”
“No! What do you think you’re doing with that?” I watch in horror as he lowers the blade a little at a time. The light glints off it, blinding me, but I can’t take my eyes off it.
He sounds genuinely happy when he laughs. “Wait and see, bitch.” The blade touches the right side of my chest above my bruised nipple.
Then it presses. Harder. Until blood seeps from under it.
Instinct must be what freezes me solid—he could stab me for real if I keep bucking up and down. All I can do is watch in shock as he drags the blade from right to left, splitting the skin open, leaving a dark red line behind it.
I don’t beg or plead this time.
All I can do is scream—loud, long, high-pitched—while I fight like I’ve never fought in my life. My shoulders, my arms, my wrists feel like they’re going to break. My feet pound the table, and my head swings back and forth. He’s going to slice me open. I can’t let him do this, and nobody’s coming to help me.
“That’s right.” He’s laughing softly, jerking himself off, raising the knife again. “Keep fighting, bitch. I’m just getting started. We’ll see how long before you give up.”
Chapter 4
Lucian
Chloe’s long gone, having done her job admirably as always. When it comes to the regular employees—my dancers, for instance—nothing but the best will do. Still, some of them manage to stand out from the crowd either thanks to looks or talent. Chloe has both.
