“Only a little,” I squeaked. Okay, maybe I wasn’t a hundred percent innocent in this. “You didn’t die.”
In a move I could never hope to follow, he ripped my wrist away from my throat with enough power that my shoulder popped out of place. “You don’t get to be self-destructive anymore, not when you’re bonded to my life.”
He squeezed my wrist until the pocketknife dropped from my hand, landing in the water with a big plop. Using his grip on my wrist, he yanked me to him, until I stumbled against his chest. “I will keep you safe, even from yourself.”
I laughed with a touch of insanity. Safe! He called any of this keeping me safe? “You wouldn’t even give a fuck, if I wasn’t tethered to you.”
“No! I wouldn’t.” He snarled, leaning down until we were eye to eye.
I slapped him across the face. The pop was satisfying, but the agony of every bone in my hand quickly squashed that tiny victory.
That didn’t stop me from doing it again, though. He grabbed my wrist once more to stop me. Annoyance made him flick his tongue.
A flash of anger went through me that didn’t feel like it belonged to me. Yet it did. Resentment and rage were some of my oldest friends, but this tasted ancient and metallic.
Perhaps that was just the blood on my tongue.
A spark of an idea lit up his eyes. A rumble in his chest, that sounded like a purr, made me shake. Everything inside me trembled.
I knew it was coming before it happened, but I was helpless to stop it.
Every muscle loosened and my knees wobbled. I stumbled around like I was drunk, trying to get my body to cooperate.
He wasn’t putting me on my knees again.
I refused.
Not that I was ready for any kind of a fight, swaying unsteadily like a newborn colt.
The purring grew deeper and resonated in my chest until I felt it inside me. It made my joints collapse again, and I leaned on him to stay upright. “Asshole.”
His skin was leathery and yet soft, lacking all the tough keratin that was on his back. It was also cool on my sweaty skin, and I hated how refreshing he felt against me.
His nose travelled my throat and the groan he tried to muffle made my face hot, and embarrassing moisture gathered between my thighs. Something huge and hard pressed against my stomach, and it took me a moment too long to realize what it was.
He liked that my body submitted to him.
Disgusting bastard.
The quiet part of me, that was sick of always having to be in control and to hide the truth, eased into a peaceful place. I was tired of micromanaging everything to make sure a man didn’t think he had as much control as he did.
There was no illusion to uphold here.
I fought to keep that part of me from getting any foothold, but he sensed my quiet submission. His groans grew needier and less controlled.
He was smelling me.
That despite how disgusted I was with him, a piece of me craved what he could give me.
I smashed my eyes shut.Think about the smell of wet dog. Think about a grandpa who couldn’t get it up. Something.
Anything to break my concentration off of how badly my core throbbed for his touch.
He went to his knees, pressing his nose between my thighs and nuzzling me with affection I knew he didn’t feel.
I pushed at his gigantic head, but he refused to move. Instead, his arm came around my thighs to hold me tighter to his face.
“You can’t do this.” But my breathless words didn’t even convince me.
