Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“We can continue, if you like,” Marek says, his voice a low rasp, “or you can tell me the truth. By now, Acacia, I know when you’re lying.”
God dammit.
Fucking biker club has no idea what they’ve done, taking me.
“Prisoners of Purgatory MC.”
My voice is strained.
Marek pauses, pondering my answer, his blue eyes flickering as he takes it in. He doesn’t once look concerned, worried or even angry. He just thinks about it as if he’s thinking about what drink to order next. I wonder if there is anything in this world that scares this man, if there is, I’d love to know what.
“I managed to get away, I’m good at that kind of thing,” I mutter. “I came straight here. That’s all I know. He didn’t say why he was looking for my mother, but he did give away that he wanted information about you. I guess it’s known that the two go hand in fucking hand.”
Marek keeps sliding the knife down, until the sharp tip slides across my exposed flesh, resting on my clit. I hold my breath, because this is the part that terrifies me, the part that makes my entire body shrink into itself. I know he’d use it, and that’s what worries me the most. He would, without a doubt, cut off my fucking clit to get answers.
“Where is your mother, Acacia?”
“I don’t know.”
The knife presses into my clit, making me yelp from the sudden, sharp pain. It’s far worse than the pain above, the area being sensitive and all that. Fucking asshole.
“I swear to fucking God, I don’t know,” I bark.
He meets my determined, unwavering glare and we hold it; we hold it for so long it feels like my insides turn to liquid, but I do not cave. I do not waver. I do not give him a single ounce of fear. He is drawn to fear like a wild animal to prey. The more you show, the more excited he gets. I won’t give him that. So, I don’t flinch. Even though inside, I’m terrified.
The knife releases, just enough to take the pain away.
“You’re going to find her; I have business that needs taking care of.”
So casual, like we’re simply in a work meeting.
“Anything else?” I grind out.
He finally pulls the knife back, placing it on the table beside me. Then, he steps forward, his fingers stretching out, grazing my clit. I bite my tongue, not wanting to tell him how good that feels. Slowly, he begins making circles as he steps closer, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath. A weaker woman would simply die in this moment, falling head over heels in love with this monster.
Lucky for us both, I’m not weak.
Marek always has a plan, and he’s never doing anything for anyone but himself. Even as he rubs my clit and pleasure shoots up my core, I know that this isn’t for me. It’s for him. It’s always for him.
“You’re going to find out what that club wants, too.”
There it is, the words I didn’t want to hear.
It takes everything inside of me not to refuse him, but I know the second I do, my world will be turned upside down. I have enough to deal with, let alone adding the club into the mix. I don’t want to have to go in there and find out what they want, and I would be a whole lot happier if Marek did his own dirty work.
He slips a finger inside me, and I gasp.
My pussy clenches around it.
“Your little cunt is begging to be fucked. So eager,” he murmurs, dragging his finger out slowly before pushing it back in and tilting it up, hitting that spot.
My body is aching for it, he’s not wrong about that.
I want it, but I don’t want it from him.
It’s good, lord knows it’s good, but it comes with a price.
It always comes with a damned price.
MAREK MAKES ME CUM, multiple times.
Not once does he put his cock inside me, though.
No, instead he fucks me with his fingers until I’m trembling around him, squeezing and moaning, unable to stop myself. My clit, throbbing, doesn’t get a chance to calm down before he’s doing it again, harder, faster, making everything inside me come alive. When he’s satisfied he has dragged enough orgasms from my tired body, he steps back, bringing his fingers up to his face and staring down at them, glistening before him.
“You’ve missed me, I see.”
I’ve missed sex, and, if I’m telling the truth, sex with him is fucking out of this world.
But no, I haven’t missed him, as such.
I don’t tell him that, though.
“Are you going to tell me exactly what it is you want me to do?” I question, my voice husky and thick as I slide off the table and begin dressing myself.