Undressing.
“Might as well give her one last ride,” he added with a low chuckle, like this was some kind of joke he’d been waiting to tell.
Something inside me snapped.
“You wouldn’t dare!” I thrashed violently against the restraints, straining with everything I had left.
The leather straps bit deeper into my wrists and ankles, cutting into already bruised, torn skin. Pain flared, sharp and immediate, but I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t stop.
I wouldn’t.
The tall man exhaled sharply, taking a step back toward the door.
“This is too fucking dangerous,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m out.”
For a second, hope flickered—thin, fragile.
The short man didn’t follow.
He stayed rooted to the spot, glancing back at the taller one as he left, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face.
“Close the door behind you,” he said quietly, watching the tall man exit.
Then the tall man vanished.
The door slammed behind him.
Sealing me in.
Now it was just me—and him.
The shorter man turned back toward me, rolling his shoulders as if loosening up for something he’d been anticipating.
His lips curled into a grin that made my stomach turn.
“Stop pretending you don’t want this.” He said, almost conversational now.
Almost... amused.
“It’s just one last fuck. I’ll make it feel good before they slice your heart out with knives.”
Rage surged through me, hot and blinding.
“Do not lay your fucking hands on me.”
The words came out sharp, defiant, but they were laced with something else underneath—fear.
He laughed.
A low, pleased sound, like my resistance only entertained him more.
Before I could move, his hand struck my inner thigh.
The slap cracked through the air, burning instantly.
I jerked violently against the restraints, but there was nowhere to go.
