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“He hurt you.” Vance shrugs, as if killing random people for hurting me is normal. “Also, he likes to beat on women. Someone should have put the dog down a while ago. Might have been still breathing had he not crossed me, but he made the mistake of touching what belongs to me.” Vance steps to me. The vulnerability in his eyes a moment ago now completely gone, replaced with conviction and rage. He rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, the simple touch making me wet. He leans in, whispering in my ear, “I told you. No one touches what’s mine. If you don’t want it to happen again, you better make sure no one touches you.”
“I should run,” I say, my eyes fluttering closed, my voice barely a whisper, my body so responsive to his touch.
“But you won’t,” Vance says, pushing his body against mine. His cock presses against my stomach, and my mouth waters. “Will you, Little Bird?”
His question comes out as a demanding growl, like he is telling me who is in charge here.
“No,” I pant with so much need for this man that I might die from it.
Vance puts his arm around me. “Let’s go back to the cabin.”
We walk in silence. My only thought of him, how safe I am with his arm wrapped around my shoulder, how the only time in my life I’ve ever felt loved was in the arms of a killer.
As we walk into the bedroom, Vance immediately removes his pants. I can’t help but stare at the size of him. The man is an anaconda. Vance chuckles, leaning back against the dresser, his tattooed arms crossed over his massive chest. He is definitely good-looking. Almost Too good-looking.
“Like the view, Little Bird?” he asks.
I lick my lips, confirming that I do. I like the view very much, but my throat is too dry to utter a word. He has no inhibitions, not at all phased at his dick being on display, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“That pink blush on your face is fuckin’ sexy. I’d like to see more of it.”
My hands fly to my face, as if I can literally somehow conceal my face from the smoldering expression on his. Ice-blue eyes roam down my body, and I feel naked, despite the heavy clothing on my skin.
Vance pushes off the dresser, the smirk on his face set in place as he strides towards me. I close my eyes, bracing myself for his touch and the turmoil of craving it will release, but nothing happens. I squint at him.
“Are you expecting something, Little Bird?” He laughs, bringing his thumb to my bottom lip, rubbing it, not so gently. He is still a few feet away, not so close where the heat of his body is affecting me but close enough that the desire pools in my pussy with a need I’ve never known in my life. I despise how my body just turns into jelly in his hands. In all my twenty-five years, I’d never been so affected by a man, and here I am basically a simp for my captor. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
Vance takes a step towards me, then another, each movement as if planned for my utter torture. His grin widens. He is enjoying the reaction he’s getting out of me. A game of cat and mouse with the mouse desperate to have the cat’s hands on her. “Remember what I told you in my office?”
I nod as the words he had said come crashing down on me. Little Bird, I don’t rape women. When we have sex, you’re gonna beg for my cock in every single one of your holes and thank me for it.
“Say it.”
“I want you to fuck me.”
His hand reaches up, his bloodstained fingers encircling my throat as he pins me against the wall with his massive body, his mouth crushing against mine. His lips are hot and taste like danger mixed with need. My lips part, allowing his tongue to slip inside. I feel like the room is spinning at the potent scent of him. Brutality, yearning, and intensity. He breaks away from me, his forehead resting on mine. “There’s no turning back, Little Bird. If we do this now, I can’t be gentle. My control is thin most days, but right now it’s obsolete. You got the monster, baby. The man has gone away. If you want to stop, tell me."
“Please don’t stop.”
Vance’s fingers slowly trail down my stomach and into the jogging pants and brush against my pussy lips. I push myself onto his hand. He chuckles. “You’re soaked for me, Little Bird, my greedy slut.”
I want to tell him I am, to degrade me, to make me his in every single way, but the words are stuck in my throat, too frightened to come out. Vance doesn’t need my words, or he doesn’t care about them. He can read my body like a book. I’ve never been with a lover who knows me so well. It is like my body is a custom toy made for him. He raises an eyebrow as his fingers move between my folds. “You’re such a good slut, Little Bird. Look how wet your dirty pussy is for me.”
