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Holly
I’ve gone way too far. Just the look on his face tells me that as clear as anything. He looks absolutely furious, and the tortured look in his eyes tells me I’m a grade A fool. I’ve prodded the beast and he’s about to strike.
In a matter of seconds, he crosses the room and looms before me like a vengeful demon. His eyes flash and the hard look in them makes me weak at the knees and not for the reason I thought it would. He is sending a carnal message straight to my core and far from feeling afraid right now, all I feel is desire in its most destructive form.
He reaches out and grabs my wrist hard, and the pain that shoots through me is not unpleasant. Pushing me forcibly against the wall, he holds his hand to my throat and presses in and I see the madness dancing in his eyes as he hisses, “You know fuck about me, Holly Bryant. If you did, you would never have allowed those words to pass your lips. I never had you down as a fool, misguided perhaps, ambitious even, but never a fool. Well, I was wrong because you have just changed the game and you don’t even know it.”
I try so hard to draw myself up to his level, which is impossible. My usual bravado deserts me as I hold my breath and wait to see where this is leading. Will he kill me right now? Close those fingers around my throat and squeeze the life from inside me? Or will he rough me up a bit, teach me a lesson and cause me physical pain in return for the mental one he is experiencing right now?
He looks at me as if he’s sizing up his options. Calculating, hard and dominant. All man and it surrounds him like a tangible force.
I stare at him with a mixture of desire and horror as he pulls me up effortlessly against the wall and holds me there so my feet are dancing in mid-air.
I almost can’t breathe and feel the fumes of destiny stripping the air from my lungs as he holds me like a puppet suspended in uncertainty.
Then he surprises me by crushing his lips to mine in a frenzied attack. Biting, punishing and drawing blood like the most depraved of vampires. He holds me against the wall, punishing, brutal and dominant, and a feeling of such desire washes through my body that has absolutely no reason being there.
I hate that I’m loving this.
I hate that I’m craving it.
I hate that I return his kiss like a woman desperate for whatever this cruel man can give me, and I hate that I am surrounded by insanity as I kiss him back with everything I’ve got.
With a groan, he pushes in hard and knocks the air from my lungs as my legs wrap around his waist and I cling on tight.
He is savage, brutal and so sexy it hurts my heart because I want this so badly. I want him so badly and as he twists those destructive hands in my hair and pulls down hard, I cry out with a mixture of pain and ecstasy.
That shocks me more than anything because I don’t do rough love. I don’t do rough anything and yet he is unleashing a monster that has remained well hidden until now.
I moan as he bites my neck and feel the wet slick of my own betrayal coating my drenched pussy. Wrapping it in infernal lust and desire for something that has been building since I first set eyes on him only yesterday morning. I want him. I want him to fuck me raw and ruin me forever because Dexter Prince is a god among men that women like me don’t have a pass to.
Before I can even draw breath, he lifts me in his arms and pulls me across his lap on the bed and tears down those sodden panties and strikes a blow so painful, I bite my lip to deal with the pain. The sharp slap reverberates around the room and I cry out in shock and mortification.
He doesn’t stop either and rains blows of retribution down on my ass until the tears soak the comforter, which is against the trade descriptions act because the last thing I’m feeling right now is comfort.
He has humiliated me again. Over and over again, and any desire I have for him has been replaced with anger and disgust. The disgust I’m feeling, however, is directed more at myself because I hate that I’m loving every minute of this. It’s him. The man. The Monster. Somehow any form of contact with him is welcomed with need and I’m not sure where it came from.
I want him so badly. The powerful, dominant, crazy man who has made me his number one priority right now and not in a good way. What has happened to me?
I think my mind shifts into survival mode and I just shut down while he punishes me in the most humiliating of ways.
When he stops, he stands abruptly and I fall to a heap on the floor, crying, tortured and ashamed as my heart beats erratically and I feel the loss of him already. I almost expect him to kick me to finish the job, but he just says angrily, “Clean yourself up and report to me in my den. Lesson one, never use my past as a weapon. You won’t like what happens next.”
Before I can even catch my breath, he is gone, the door slamming behind him as the final blow and as I hear his footsteps walking away from me, I curl up into a ball and cry a river of tears because more than anything, I can’t bear that he’s gone.
