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“Well, I guess I shouldn’t expect anything else from a pig like you. I bet you just love it when a woman blithely submits to you.”
I shrug and reply like we’re making conversation, even though my unwanted response to her has me feeling confrontational. “That’s where you’re wrong. As much as I like a good fuck, I like a challenge. I like to win."
She gapes at me, and I give her a slow, cocky smile. “There’s nothing I like more than taking a woman who’s fighting me and taming her.”
She shakes her head, looking horrified. “You’re sick.”
I raise a single eyebrow. “There’s no denying that, sweetheart. But that's not something you'll have to worry about. I won't force you."
“Of course you won't,” she spits at me. “Because I won't let you. I’ll fight you every step of the way, and I’ll make your life hell before I let you touch me again.”
I smile at her. “Is that a challenge?”
She snorts. “And what if it is?”
Deciding to push her a little further to see how far I can go before she snaps, I lean forward, elbows either side of her head, and allow my smile to widen until it’s positively feral. "Oh, what fun I could have with you, my pretty little captive. Just imagine, I could threaten your life, make you cry, refuse to let you sleep… and then I'll pretend to let you get away. I'll let you believe you've escaped, and you'll run like hell.”
Her breath catches in her throat and her eyes are like saucers, her bratty attitude faltering as I continue. “The thing is, I'll catch you. And then I'll do it all again.”
I let her feel the full force of my gaze, all hint of levity erased, the devil I'm showing in my expression.
“I’ll break you, but you’ll beg for me first.”
Chapter Fifteen
MARICELA
I freeze, suddenly wondering if I've underestimated my captor. My mouth has taken liberties in my confrontations with Ciaran, and I've allowed my tongue to run in a way I would never have dared to do with Vito, and somehow I’ve felt safe in doing so.
But his words... a shudder snakes its way down my spine. Have I misjudged him? Was he just leading me to a false sense of security?
Now, as I cower beneath his gaze, it all feels different. It's predatory, and I'm the prey.
I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. I may have thought I was in control, but I realize I'm not. Perhaps that was always his true intention.
One thing is for sure, this man is dangerous, not least because he causes me to let down my guard. I’m not here for shits and giggles. I’m here because he took me and brought me here; to what end, I still don’t know. One thing is for sure, though. In only a few short hours, I’ve allowed myself to become complacent. What I need to do is double down and find a way to escape.
"Then you truly are a monster," I say, trying to sound brave despite the way my voice trembles. His dark smile broadens, and I can see the anticipation in his eyes.
I try to squirm away from him, but his grip on my wrists tightens, keeping me pinned beneath him. "I'm not afraid of you," I say, trying to sound defiant. But the truth is, I'm terrified. Not because Ciaran frightens me but because I’m scared of the feelings this man draws from me. Feelings that could have me doing something really, really stupid. Feelings that make me forget myself and the predicament I’m in.
Because, as much as I refuse to admit it, he’s right. Every protest that leaves my lips is actually just me trying to convince myself. The truth is, I’m attracted to Ciaran, and that’s more dangerous than anything else.
As if he knows my dilemma, his eyes seem to glow with amusement, the cruel glint in them making me shiver. "Well, you should be," he says, letting go of my hands and raising himself on his elbows and hovering over me. He doesn’t let me up though. Instead, he throws me onto my front and wrenches his loose t-shirt up, so my back is on display.
Hearing him inhale through his nose, I close my eyes and cringe, expecting the worst, but his fingers, when they touch me, are feather-light.
“Did Vito do this?” he asks, and I try not to flinch when he hits a particularly tender patch of my violated skin. All I can do is keep my eyes screwed shut and nod, my heart battering against my chest as I wonder if he’ll view my weakness and decide to make it his own.
I crack one eye open and peer at him, but his expression is impassive, like he doesn’t care one way or the other. His next words, though? They give me pause.
“Was it consensual? Are you a masochist? Is kink your thing?”
I swallow hard, and my body quivers beneath his. I’m certain he must feel it. The truth is, I had enjoyed a varied and engaging sex life prior to Vito. I would have called myself adventurous and open to new experiences. I’d even visited a kink club a time or two and enjoyed exploring my limits.
Not that I’m going to tell Ciaran that; I’ve learned my lesson there.
Because that was surely my mistake. One more thing putting me on the Viper’s radar. Not that Vito was interested or bothered to ask about my personal preferences. He’s the type of man who takes what he wants and takes his bad mood out on everybody around him. But more than once he’d alluded to his belief that I actually loved all the perverted, torturous things he did to me, proving he was aware of that part of my life. There’s no way I’m granting this man any of that knowledge, though, because more than once, I’ve wondered if I brought all I’ve been forced to endure from the Viper on myself by putting myself out there and embracing the world of bdsm.
