I loathe the bastard more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life. I know he hates me just as fiercely, so why the fuck did he get hard for me? No — just by the way I said his name. Perhaps, it’s a part of his God complex to get hard by hearing his own name. Perhaps, it has nothing to do with me.
“I know you’re not sleeping,” his voice is barely above a murmur.
The feeling of him moving the covers and the bed dipping under his weight, is all I can focus on. The bed’s too small to fit us both, yet somehow, he manages to squeeze his bigger build next tomine. His hot breath tickles the back of my head, and the warmth of his body transfers to me, even though we’re not touching.
Yet.
“Just sleep,” I mumble, tugging the covers closer to me.
“Princess,” his voice deepens, sending chills down my body. “Turn around.”
I remain in the same position, my body going rigid. My shoulders tense up, and goosebumps prickle my skin. I hold in my breath, squeezing my eyes shut. There’s no sound in the room except the sound of his rapid breathing, and the insane way my heart’s thumping against my ribcage, threatening to leap straight out.
“I said,” he inches a bit closer. “Turn around, Sophia.”
The way he says my name makes me bite my bottom lip. Oh, God. Why the hell am I feeling like this? Something warm spreads through my chest, and I feel something in the pit of my stomach — something I’ve never felt before.
The command in his voice makes me pause for a moment. It’s a threat, a warning, and a deep, dark promise that he’ll do something if I don’t do as he says. So, with careful movements, I turn around to face him.
His face is a mere inch away from mine, his hot breath tickling my nose. He smells like the whiskey he had previously, and nicotine.
“What do you want, Ford?” I whisper, my knuckles turning white from the force I’m gripping the thick duvet.
“You have no idea,” he swallows, and my eyes follow the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobs up and down. “How much I want to destroy you. No,” he chuckles, a sound so deep that it terrifies me to the bones. “I want to ruin you. I want to break you until you’re nothing but a whimpering, pathetic mess for me. Until all you can do is scream my name, until all you can think of is me.”
“What?”
His hand sneaks around my waist, and Soren pulls me flush against him, my cheek pressed against his cheek. A gasp leaves my lips when his hand reaches up my shirt, trailing his fingers up and down my side. The warmth of his fingers is a stark contrast to my cold skin.
“Sleep.”
ELEVEN
My eyes flutter open, and I expect to see brightness outside through the window across from the bed. However, it’s pitch-black outside, with nothing but a little moonlight to provide light. I try to move, but I can’t even make it an inch before I’m pulled back.
Soren’s arm is wrapped around my waist, holding me in a vice-tight grip. This entire thing is rather bizarre. I want to chalk it up to Soren playing another mind game on me, but when he pulls me a little more into his solid, firm chest, I feel my cheeks heat up.
His bulge is pressed against my ass, and all I can think about is the nickname Grace gave him — Micro. This man is anything but small in that department.
“Would you quit squirming?” Soren’s sleepy, raspy voice reaches my ears, and I have to suck in a sharp breath. Why the hell is his voice so pleasing to my ears?
“Why the hell are you hard?”
“That happens when a woman’s ass is rubbing against my dick, Sloane,” he murmurs, his face buried in the back of my neck. “Now,unless you stop squirming, I’ll use those pretty thighs of yours to get myself off.”
I freeze for a moment.
Soren’s a lot of things, but he’s not that insane, right? Right? Surely, the man has some semblance of self-control and reason. My brows crease, and I decide to test it.
I’ll either regret this, or end up laughing at this whole situation.
Slowly, I push my ass further into his cock, feeling it twitch. For a virgin, I’m feeling rather bold tonight. Soren stills beside me, but his hold on me gets tighter, and a beat of silence passes between us.
Then, his hand moves from my waist, gripping my hip, and pulling me more onto him. My eyes squeeze shut, and that’s a terrible mistake. I can’t see a damn thing, but I sure as fuck can feel everything.
His cock is rubbing between my thighs over our clothes, and my panties start dampening. Something twitches inside of me, deep in the pit of my stomach, and I swallow down sounds that threaten to escape my lips.
“I warned you, Princess,” his gravelly voice reverberates through the room, his grip on me borders on painful. I’ve always bruised easily, and I already know that his fingers will leave a mark.
