Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 148184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
His jaw tightens, and he reaches out to rip the strap of my sundress. It sags down, baring my right breast to him. “Unlike Sal or your father, I follow through with my threats. There are worse things I can do to you than hurt you.”
Despite his words and his grip. Despite the way he’s holding me and handling me. Despite everything screaming at me to the contrary…I know he won’t hurt me. Not the same way they did. Not even close.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper. “You asked a question, and I answered you.”
His eyes are locked onto my bare skin, and he jerks the other strap of my other shoulder, leaving smears of blood from my shoulder to my bicep.
Then he drags the dress farther down so it slips off my hips and pools at my feet. I wait to see what he’ll do next.
When he rips my panties off, one-handed, the fabric digs into my skin hard enough I know I’ll have a bruise. But I don’t make a sound.
I wait for the moment when my brain somehow leaves my body. An occurrence that happened regularly when Sal, or my father, put their hands on me, but it doesn’t come. In fact, the opposite happens. It’s as if every brush of his skin against mine only heightens my awareness of both him and my own body.
I reach out and unbutton his shirt, staring hard into his eyes, waiting for him to bat my fingers away. He doesn’t, but he releases my neck so I can strip his bloodstained clothing off. Then for some reason, I go for his belt. My hands with a life of their own. My heart is pounding so loud in my ears I can’t possibly hear anything else right now.
When I strip his belt, it’s as if a switch is flipping in him. He steals it from my grasp and then yanks my hands behind me, wraps the belt tight, and cinches it to keep them immobile.
God, I should be terrified. But I’m so turned on I can feel the wetness on my thighs.
“You are not in charge,” he whispers, leaning in. “Say it.”
It takes me a couple of tries. “I’m not in charge.”
He lines his body up with mine, dips down enough to probe my entrance with his cock, and then he’s inside me. It’s not gentle. I’m speared on him, my tiptoes barely on the ground before he lifts me by the hips and slams me hard into the wall.
He drops his forehead to my shoulder but then replaces it with his teeth. It’s a sharp bite, not a gentle nip, and I moan in both pleasure and pain.
When he releases my shoulder, he chants, “You’re mine,” repeatedly.
I fight with the belt around my wrists, needing to touch him back, to hold on, give myself leverage. But there’s no mercy in the way he pounds into me. He’s slamming me into the wall, his hips working furiously, blood smeared all over both of us now. All I can do is close my eyes and lean my head back so it doesn’t smack into his as he drags his teeth up to my neck to deliver another hard bite.
This one causes me to cry out. I can barely breathe with the intensity of it all. His fingers are so tight, his teeth digging into my flesh so hard I can’t move, only breathe through it.
There’s more pain than pleasure now, but I don’t care. It’s all for him. If he needs to take me this way, then I can handle it.
It hits me fast and hard. I was made to handle him at his worst. Honed for it by my years of abuse and trauma. I can take it like no one else could.
A surge of possessiveness rises in my chest, a lump squeezing everything tight. No one else will have him like this except me.
His movements start to get frantic, less smooth, more brutal with every stroke. I lean into the wall, waiting it out, even as pleasure starts to replace the pain. He switches the angle at the last second, his cock gliding against my clit now. I cry out, my eyes popping open.
He wraps one arm under my ass to lift me, and the other grips my neck. “Come now. Fucking come.”
I shatter at his command. Everything inside me contracts tight around his cock. I come harder than I ever have, and he follows me a few seconds later, eyes still locked with mine, body still coiled tight against me.
When he slows, he still doesn’t release me. “You belong to me,” he says, his voice low, deep, thrumming things deep inside me hard enough to shoot another bolt of pleasure through me.
He eases me to the floor, pulling out of my body. “You belong to me, but if you ever betray me, I’ll fucking kill you.”