Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 52178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
He's fucking delicious.
And I’m drunk.
Finally, he’s asleep.
I wait even longer, before pushing quietly to my feet and staring over at the bed. He’s laying on his back, his eyes closed, one arm tucked up behind his head. His bicep bulges and his smooth skin is so creamy and perfect against his dark hair. Biting my lip, hating that I’m about to do this, I turn and tiptoe to the kitchen. I reach the knife block and pull out the biggest one I can find, then I pause.
Do I have it in me to actually plunge this into him?
The very thought makes me sick, and my stomach twists with repulsion.
I don’t want to hurt him, even though I know it’s what I have to do to escape. I ask myself, is my freedom worth his life? Or am I willing to stay here forever, being his slave? I know I want to go home, but at the same time, something in me hesitates. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like how it makes me feel. Like an uncaged, feral animal. There is a wildness inside me that is begging to be released.
Marek brings it out, and I don’t know why.
Moving closer to the bed, I glance down at him as I carefully kneel on the soft mattress. He doesn’t move as the bed dips slightly, and I hold my breath, gripping the knife in both hands when I’m above him, praying I’m strong enough to do this. I close my eyes, and vomit rises in my throat. Come on, Ellie, it’s now or never. With trembling hands, I count down from three.
As I bring the knife down towards his chest, his hand shoots up and curls around the blade, fingers gripping the sharp knife, causing blood to immediately coat the steel. Screaming, I let the knife go, and he releases it as it falls to the bed beside us. His eyes, wild with rage, lock on mine and I know I’ve fucked up.
“Did you think I am so stupid that I would actually sleep?” he grinds out, not releasing my wrist.
I should have known he would never just let me sleep, unchained, where I could get away or worse, try to kill him. I’m such an idiot, thinking I could outsmart him. Panting, I stare down at him, my mind spinning with emotions I can’t get control of.
“You want to kill me, Ellie Mae? Think you’ve got it in you?”
He reaches down, picking up the knife and he puts it in my free hand, his blood coats my skin and I know he’s been cut deep, but he’s seemingly unbothered, as if he simply can’t feel any pain. With the heavy steel in my hand, and him offering me the chance, I know I should take it. I know I should, yet I find myself unable to move, my hand trembling, my body panting with something I don’t quite understand.
“Do it,” he growls, his voice low and husky, “drive that knife into me.”
I can’t, and he knows I can’t.
An angry growl escapes my lips as I toss the knife onto the bed.
Why can’t I do it?
Why am I hesitating?
“You won’t do it because a small part of you likes it here, a dark and twisted part, is wondering what this life could offer.”
No, he’s wrong.
He’s wrong.
I jerk my wrist, but it’s a pathetic attempt at best.
“If you wanted me to release you, you’d fight. I’ve seen your fight. No, Ellie Mae, you don’t really want to get off this bed, instead, you’re wondering how it would feel if I pulled you down and fucked you until you forgot every single person in your past.”
His words, like rich velvet slipping off his tongue, pierced me right in the heart. I fight with everything I have inside, trying to convince myself he’s wrong, but the problem is no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get myself to pull away. He’s vile, and monster, and yet I am so incredibly drawn to him, I should be checking myself in for immediate help because there is clearly something wrong with the wiring in my brain.
The very thought of him should make me want to vomit, yet the only thing his words do, is spark a fire in my soul.
I open my mouth to speak, but the only thing that comes out is a ragged breath.
A wanting breath.
An answer to a question he didn’t even ask.
“Show me your darkness, Ellie Mae, and together, we can be incredible.”
No.
No.
He locks girls in cages.
He’s a monster.
I could never live with that.
Never.
And still, the idea of going home, to my boring routine, to the people who won’t let me express myself or make my own choices, has my heart clenching.
“Do you want me to fuck you? To show you what a real man feels like...”