Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
And he's right here, in my face, sharing the same air. I recoil in disgust, but he only chuckles. “Are you afraid of me? Don't lie. I see it all over you.”
“Then why are you asking?” I whisper.
“Because I want to hear you say it. I want you to admit how scared you are right now. There's nothing in the world that excites me as much as your fear. It brings out all my protective instincts. It makes you seem so much more precious.”
His fingertips skim my jaw, and I bite back a whimper, but just barely. I'll be damned if I give him what he wants so easily.
“Sweet, Siân,” he croons, his breath hot on my face. “I can't wait to make you mine forever.”
“That will never happen.” I force myself to look him in the eye even though it chills my blood. This murderer, this monster. “I hate you. And you're fucking deluded if you think there's ever going to be a future for us.”
“I think you're the deluded one.” He touches me again, this time letting his hand stray over my chest. I can't help but grimace in revulsion, which only makes him chuckle again. “Don't pretend. You can grimace all you want, but your body knows better.” He proves this by flicking my now hard nipple.
“Don't you touch me.” I swat his hand away, but he only laughs. “I'm not going to be a toy for you to play with for the rest of my life. I'd rather be dead than let that happen.”
“You only think that.”
Jesus, he actually believes himself. He is earnest, maybe more so than I've ever seen him. Why not? He's finally being honest. Finally showing me who he truly is.
I have to get away from him. Short of jumping off the plane, the only thing I can think of is the bathroom. “I have to pee.” He backs away, letting me get out of my seat. I'm surprised he let me do that much. My legs are a little wobbly, but I manage to make it to the middle of the jet, holding on to the seats as I pass them.
The bathroom is tiny, as I expected, but it's private. I need my privacy. I have to think.
I don't have my jeans pulled down yet when the door opens. “Get out of here!” I try to yank my pants back up, but he only laughs. The sound brings to mind a crazy kid torturing a small animal.
“What, you think there's a single part of you that doesn't belong to me? If I want to watch you take a piss, I will.” He leans back a little, looking up and down the length of the jet in both directions. With a quick jerk of his arms, he closes a pair of curtains on either side of the bathroom, blocking us from the view of whoever else is flying with us. What would they do if I started screaming? If they work for him, probably nothing. I don't want to waste my energy.
Nobody will stop him. My heart’s hammering hard enough to hurt, and I might faint if I can’t get my breathing under control. “Stop it, please,” I whisper, and now I don’t care if I sound weak. “This isn't a game. We can talk when I'm finished.”
“No, we’ll talk when I feel like it.” He looks me up and down with a familiar hunger in his eyes, eyes I used to love gazing into. “Now piss if you have to go so badly. I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well do it unless you like wetting your pants. I don't care either way.”
I've never hated anyone as much as I hate him right now. I move as little as possible, lowering my jeans just enough that I can sit on the metal toilet seat without getting them dirty. The sound of urine hitting the bowl threatens to bring tears of humiliation to my eyes, but I force them back.
“See? That wasn't so bad.” Only he doesn't back away when I'm finished—instead, he pulls my hands away from the waistband so I can't button my jeans back up.
“Stop it,” I whisper, trying to smack his hands away. He won't let me this time. Instead, he backs me up against the wall opposite the toilet and shoves a hand between my legs.
“You really think you could live without me fucking you for the rest of your life?” He rubs me, chuckling softly against my throat. His hand is anything but soft. He’s so rough that it almost hurts.
I close my eyes, willing this to all be over. I'm not here. I'm somewhere else, anywhere else. This isn't happening.
“Stop pretending,” he growls before brushing his lips against my throat. I shiver, but is it revulsion or something else? “We both know nobody can touch you like I can. Nobody can make you feel like I do. I own this body. I own all of you.”