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“Never,” he replies confidently, and we both know it’s a lie.
He can’t say never because he already has, more than once. But despite everything inside of me screaming to run away, I am melting into him again. Unable to fight it. A breathless moan escapes against his lips, too sweet and tender. I didn’t want to give that to him. If this is going to happen, I want it to be brutal. Because I have made up my mind that he is brutal.
I bite his lip too hard and push him away again, my eyes brightening to match his. It’s my way of showing him things are going to be different this time. I am not the same vulnerable, desperate girl he found before. I know exactly who he is now, and I’ve survived him once already. I have to be rough enough to make sure I survive him again.
“Maybe I should be telling you not to hurt me,” he quips, touching his finger to the bite mark on his lip.
“Maybe.”
“I know you’ve never thought I was any better than the rest of the Elites,” he pleads desperately, “I know I just look like a monster to you…but I had no choice, Ophelia.”
“I’ve told you before…you’ve always had a choice, Emmett.”
“Well, the choice I’m making is to set things right with you,” he announces confidently, puffing up his chest. “And to take over my father’s company, and run it the way I always wished he would have. It’s a business and nothing else. It doesn’t come above people, it helps people.”
2
Chapter Two
My feet are glued to the floor as he walks towards me with less hesitation than before. He’s determined now, and my ability to resist him is weakening with each passing minute. He tries to pull me into his arms, but I push him and turn away.
“I don’t trust you or believe anything you say,” I insist sharply, trying to remind myself just as much as him.
“So, let me show you with something other than words.” His voice drops to a low, suggestive rasp as he lingers right behind me, facing my back. His fingers glide gently across my lower back, up my spine, sending chilling tingles through my entire body.
“Emmett…don’t,” I protest weakly, still unable to move away. “My mom is downstairs and probably listening to everything…She doesn’t trust you either.”
“We’ll be quiet,” he whispers against my ear, moving in closer behind me as I feel myself melting into him. Giving in. “Unless you want me to stop…” he offers as his palms glide up my arms, begging to explore other parts of my body.
“I can’t.” My voice wavers and is unconvincing. I can’t fully give in, but I can’t move away or ask him to stop either. The bad memories drift to the back of my mind, replaced with the haunting recollection of how he made me feel that afternoon in his bathroom. Emmett had tried to escape to school for a while, leaving me locked in his room—supposedly having no other choice. His father tried to break into the room, and by the time Emmett came racing back to make sure I was okay, we were both unable to fight it anymore. The way his fingers felt on my skin and inside of me, the taste of his mouth, the way his tongue and teeth devoured me, his smell, and the warmth of his body moving inside of mine…it’s all painfully vivid.
My lips part in longing as it all crashes over me. Regardless of what has happened and what will, I want Emmett. Even if only physically, I am sure of that much. And he’s standing here right now, offering himself to me. I desperately want to surrender and let us both feel good for just a little while, temporarily forgetting about everything else.
But I’m still frozen in fear as he pushes his chest against my back, gently pressing his lips to the back of my neck. An electric current flows through my veins at his kiss, lighting every part of me on fire with an uncontrollable desire for him. But I can’t let myself forget what happened after we had sex the first time. As powerful as it had seemed, he turned cold the moment it was over, transforming back into the heartless, empty shell I feared he truly was, regardless of what he insisted.
A soft whimper escapes my mouth as his kisses grow deeper, traveling up and down the back of my neck, begging me to cave into him again. Suddenly, I don’t care if he can be trusted or if he’ll turn cold once he’s through with me. I just want to feel him again, even if it’s only once.
Without saying a word, I march over to my bedroom door and make sure that it’s locked. I turn back around slowly, pushing my back to the door as I look at him with pleading eyes. My arms hang limply at my sides as I soften in submission. His eyes light up with hunger as he walks over to me, tunneling forward with a primal urge.
Our lips crash together in desperate kisses as he pushes me against the door. There is nothing slow or reserved about it as we drink each other in with all the same repressed desire that roared up between us the first time. Within minutes, he tightens his hands around my ass, lifting me up to wrap my legs around his waist as his teeth dig into the side of my neck.
“Oh god, Ophelia,” he growls, urgently moving across every inch of my face, neck, and mouth that he can with rapid force.
A taunting grin curls across the corners of my mouth as I
look up at him, relishing in how much he wants me. Suddenly I realize that this is my only advantage. He needs me as much as I need him, but the idea of making him think he can’t have me fulfills a need for vengeance. I decide right then to torture him.
My fingers press into his cheeks as I spread my hand under his jaw, forcefully holding him back from kissing me anymore. His brows flicker in confusion as he tries to push forward, but I keep my grip firm. With my hands to his chest, I shove him backward, flattening against the door as I look at him with daring eyes.
I lift my shirt over my head and take off my pants. He tries to rush forward again, but I shove him back. One brow rises in defiance as I slowly drag a finger across the clasp of my bra. “Do you want me to take this off?” I ask him tauntingly.
He grunts and charges, but I push him away for the third time. “Tell me that’s what you want,” I insist.
I can tell he’s infuriated that he can’t just take control and throw me down to have his way with me. But he reluctantly nods, shifting impatiently as he drinks in the sight of me standing there in my underwear.
“Say it,” I command, keeping my fingers still but close to the clasp.
“Please, take it off,” he begs, his voice deep and heavy with unsatisfied longing.
