Page 49

I trembled, my body reacting to his hoarse voice, the way he said my name in a growl.

My body was a fucking illiterate, completely incapable of reading the reality of the situation.

“Stay put. Don’t try anything funny.” Bending down, I quickly unlocked the handcuffs. Of course, I should have expected the next move.

He grabbed me by the front of my coat, pulling me down over himself, and then flipped us until I was under him. His hard body came down on me, every bend and corner fitting snugly against mine.

“Now, I’m on top of you,” he said with a low chuckle, yanking my hand with the knife up above my head. “Should I kill you now?”

While my brain was plotting to get out of this madness, my pussy ignored every warning sign and just wanted to get impaled by this madman.

“You won’t. You’re here for a reason, and if you kill me now, you’ll never get to finish it.” I licked my lips, and his eyes went to them.

“Such pretty fucking lips, when you aren’t flapping them.”

Shaking his head, he tugged me by my hair and pulled me up until my face was so close to his. I could feel his hot breath on my skin and smell his darkness.

“Are you going to kiss me or kill me?”

“Fuuuck.” With a long groan, he pressed his lips to mine. The knife slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor with a clink.

I’m going to hell for this, but for now, it’s heaven.

His lips were harsh, wild. He was punishing me with every thrust of his tongue, and my body came alive with it. Raw and powerful, demanding compliance, ordering submission.

I wanted him with all his broken monsters. I wanted to go to the strangest, darkest places where light was only a dream or a nightmare.

Was it okay to desire a man with such an unquenchable need, with a passion that might singe me? No.

Did I want him to stop punishing me? NO.

“Fuck you,” he grumbled, flipping us once again until I was on top of him. I didn’t move even when he let me go. I pressed my ass against his erection, smiling when he let out a moan, followed by a curse.

The deranged look in his eyes pushed me further.

This game was twisted, and there was no right way to play it.

I was tempted to take it all the way.

It was dangerous, but I didn’t give a damn about any of that, not right now.

My lips crashed against his, tongue sneaking in until I was tasting every inch of him. He fought and then surrendered with an accepting growl. I bit until I tasted his blood, and became high from it.

He claimed my body, clawing, caressing, torturing.

His hands went to my ass, digging into my flesh. I shuddered as he let his fingers slide inside my waistband. “Where the fuck is your underwear, you mad woman?”

“You made quite a mess.”

“Like that’s the only underwear you own… fuck,” he groaned, his fingers massaging my ass cheeks. “So fucking soft.” His fingers crawled down, until they were rubbing against my pussy, slick and ready for him. “Already wet for me, aren’t you, Sharma? Does getting finger-fucked by your patient turn you on?”

“Fuck no,” I groaned. How long had I dreamed of this!?

“Fuck yes. Tell me the truth and then beg me. Looks like it’s your turn to beg.” His other hand cupped my breast, thumb pushing against my nipple.

Bastard.

My body was burning for more, and my brain was glitching, but even then, I knew I shouldn’t beg. That would give him all the power, and no man was worth it. Not even this gorgeous asshole, who was made to make a woman kneel in front of him.