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His hand creeps further up my leg, now in kneecap territory. “There are deadly things on this island.” His nostrils flare as his eyes narrow, and the pressure from his fingers increases. “If you think I’m dangerous, step foot outside without me and see how much worse it’ll get.”
I don’t know whether to be more worried about what he’s saying or what he’s doing with his hand. I couldn’t fight him off if I tried. I know that much.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt me.” I glance down at his hand, which is now inching up my thigh, almost sliding under my dress.
“I meant it. So long as you don’t do anything stupid.” He gives my thigh a squeeze—then his hand is gone.
The sick part is the way my heart sinks. Yes, it feels good to be touched right now when adrenaline has flooded me and my pulse is racing, but this is not the guy. He’s the opposite of the guy.
Even if there are still goosebumps up and down my leg.
4
Sebastian
What am I supposed to do with her now?
I know what I want to do. I’d be kidding if I said the sight of a sexy blonde tied to my bed doesn’t get me hard. She wouldn’t have a choice. She’d have to let me do what I want. Whatever I want.
I’m a piece of shit, but I’m not that big a piece of shit.
It’s been too long since I had a woman. That’s the problem. I should’ve gotten all this out of my system before I brought her here, but then again, it’s not like I planned this. If I hadn’t stuck around last night to watch Jake pick up the subject I found, I never would’ve had the impulse to take her for myself.
Dad always warned me about a lack of impulse control. It’s a big part of the reason I’m here.
“I don’t even know your name.” She’s in the bed’s corner, knees pulled up to her chest.
“Sebastian.” I can’t help smirking. “Does it make you feel better, knowing my name?”
“Yeah. I’m thrilled now.” She touches her forehead to her knees and sighs deeply while I wish she’d spread her legs a little to give me a better view in that little dress she’s wearing. I should get something out of all the trouble she’s putting me through, right?
“You could quit the sarcasm.” I stare at her from the foot of the bed, where I just made sure the other end of the rope is tied tight. She’s going to bolt the second she sees the opportunity.
She’s quiet for a long time. Until there’s a sniffle.
Fuck. She’s crying now. And it’s getting louder all the time until her whole body heaves.
“Stop it. Don’t do that.” I might as well not be talking at all. I doubt she can hear me, the way she’s sobbing.
“I don’t want to be here.” It takes forever for her to finish the sentence, sobbing between each word. “I want to go home. I won’t tell anybody, I swear. Nobody has to know.”
“I’ve heard that one before. Trust me, it never works.” My family has a way of making people say that type of promise. Blubber it. Weep it.
She only cries harder. I need out of here for a minute. She’s tied tight enough and there’s not enough rope that she’ll be able to get off the bed and go anywhere else, so I leave her alone. Once I’m outside, I can breathe easier. I don’t have to hear her or see her.
Somehow, seeing her is worse. There’s only so much self-control I’m capable of.
I can’t hear her anymore after a few minutes, so I look through the window over the sink, giving me a full view of her. And she’s doing what I should’ve known she’d do. She’s frantically trying to loosen the knot at her ankle.
Heat rolls through me and clenches my fists. I’m risking everything for her, and she can’t wait to get away from me. Even though she wouldn’t last an hour out here.
I burst through the door, and she jumps and scrambles back to the far corner of the bed. But it’s too late for that. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t hurt me!” She cowers with her arms crossed over her head and all it does is piss me off worse than ever.
I take her wrists and pull her arms apart. “You want something to fear? I’ll be the worst fucking nightmare you ever had. I’ll give you something to cry about.” I’m practically screaming now, leaning into her face, and the terror written all over it satisfies me. She needs to know who’s in charge. Looks like this is the way I’ll have to teach her.
She screams, trying to kick and struggle her way free, when I force her to stretch out on her back, but she might as well be punching the air. I can’t feel it. I only feel her under me as I straddle her, and let’s just say it doesn’t feel bad.
