I rear back and slap him across the face. Fire envelops my hand, but I’m too focused on trying to gouge out the fucker’s eyes to notice.
“Motherfu—”
He stumbles back, a hand knocking mine away. I instinctively release my legs and thrash against him. My limbs fly without direction or precision, and my world teeters, only to slam against the cement floor, the air knocking from my lungs.
He’s on top of me, kneeling as he struggles to catch my swinging hands.
“Get off me,” I bite out through gritted teeth, kicking and punching with all my might. “You. Sick. Fucker.”
As if to prove me right, he releases another laugh, displaying the full power of the wrinkles curving down from his eyes and dimples. It only pisses me off more.
“This is funny?!”
He snags my legs and forces them apart again, fitting himself back in between them. My wrists are next, and though I still wiggle fiercely beneath him, he scoops them in one hand and presses them firmly between our sternums.
I pant heavily, huffing with ire and exhaustion, but I continue to push at him anyway, simply because if I stop fighting, I have nothing else.
“If this was supposed to change my mind, I fear you’ve only convinced me more,” he says, a little breathless himself.
Growling, I gather saliva on my tongue, but he clocks it immediately and lets out a dark chuckle.
“If you're going to spit at me, aim for my mouth so I can taste it,” he says, the words coming out as a deep rumble.
I narrow my eyes, teeming with the urge to do it just to test him, but I let it slide back down my throat and take a different route instead.
“Yeah?” I challenge breathlessly, my tone seductive but mocking. “You'll swallow for me like a good boy?”
A demonic growl tears from his chest as he straightens long enough to shove me farther up until the floor beneath my head disappears. It falls back over the side of the pool, the water only an inch from the top of my skull.
I gasp sharply, my heart skipping a beat before plunging into a pit of terror. My legs snap around his waist again, as if that’s going to somehow help me, but in this position, I have little traction to gain. He leans back down, pressing his weight into mine while I lift my head, my face stopping within an inch of his.
The angry tears dried during the struggle, but they renew now that I’m trapped and utterly helpless. However, a slight smile curves his lips, amusement and something far more daunting swirling in his eyes—elation.
I didn't think anything could be scarier than Dread’s wrath, but I was wrong. His excitement is far more terrifying.
“What’s it gonna be, darling?” he asks quietly.
I let out a sound of pure frustration, attempting one last time to push at him.
But it’s useless.
My neck is aching from keeping it lifted, but I’d rather suffocate beneath Dread's behemoth of a body than underwater.
His gaze travels over the planes of my face, his lips parting as he explores my features while journeying down to my mouth. By the time it makes its way back up to mine, I’m staring into the eyes of a starving beast.
“Dread—”
“Drown, or I fuck you,” he repeats with finality.
I make the mistake of turning my head to find the light blue abyss a few inches beneath me. My heart flies into my throat.
I swear, it’s fucking taunting me, promising to invade my insides until it fills every inch. And based on the size of his dick pressed between my thighs, he would do the same.
I quickly face forward again, struggling to draw in a breath.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate himsomuch.
“Fine,” I bite out, attempting to inhale, but I still can’t get my lungs to work. After the night I’ve had, I’m surprised they’re still functioning at all. I stare into his glittering eyes, injecting every bit of bravado into my voice as I seal my fate. “I’ll fuck you.”
