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But it doesn’t seem to faze the man at all.
In fact, he smiles, looking even more like a psycho than he did before when he was only shooting death daggers at me from his eyes.
“You wanna try that again?” he hisses, thrusting his chest against me. My back slams against my headboard, the framed photo hanging over the bed shaking from the force.
My head cracks against the wood grain, and I gasp at the pain that rattles my skull. He captures my wrists in each of his beefy hands, then slaps my arms against the wall behind the bed, holding me captive. His eyes rake over my chest like a voracious predator eyeing his prey before he’s ready to devour it whole.
Electricity crackles in the space between us, the current singeing my skin as he presses himself into me so that my body is flush against his. My heart thumps and thuds with the speed of a racehorse, and then I realize it isn’t only my heartbeat I’m feeling. His throbs in time with mine, thick, carnal tension hanging heavy in the air between us.
I can only take in short gasps of air because his massive, muscular chest steals the breath from my body. So many unanswered questions loop through my brain, while as many lewd fantasies ravage my lust-riddled mind.
What in the fuck is happening right now?
This guy has just broken into my bedroom, threatened me with a weapon, torn off my shirt, and basically told me he’s here as part of a revenge plot against my father.
Yet, the tingling between my thighs signifies the fact that my body doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything other than the palpable desire bubbling in my veins at this moment.
Holy shit, am I dreaming?
Yes, it’s a dream. A very vivid and horrifying dream.
I am lucid dreaming.
There’s no other explanation.
It sure as hell can’t be real. It’s too fucked up to be real.
My reaction to him would make me a certifiable head case if it was real.
The tips of my fingers twitch, numbing more with each passing second that the blood flow recedes. “Let go of me, now.”
“What are you gonna do if I don’t, princess? You gonna scream? Cry?” His lips curl upward. “Bite? I’d like that. I bet you’d be real good at it.” He leans closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “I’d bite you back. And you’d love it, too.”
I struggle against him, trying desperately to ignore the tingling between my thighs. “Fuck you, asshole.”
His eyes blaze with white-hot ire. “You’re gonna hate your life, Natasha. I promise you that. Your world was handed to you on a silver platter and I’m about to crush it. You’re gonna suffer just like I did. You’ll wish you were dead.”
The deadly calm of his voice scares the hell out of me. I have to get away from this lunatic before he carries out his threats right here and now, so I lean forward and drop my head. My shoulders slump in what I hope to God looks like defeat.
He scoffs. “You’re giving up already?”
With a choked cry, I jerk my head upward, smashing the top of my skull against his nose. But even with blood drizzling out of one nostril, he doesn’t let me go. He doesn’t loosen his grip on me the tiniest bit. His low, guttural roar reverberates between my ears, and before I can even blink, he forces me onto my back and straddles me. The fingers on one of his hands lock around both of my wrists, his other hand sliding down the sides of my torso, kneading my breasts. My nipples are taut and tight, erect enough to cut through glass.
Fucking traitorous bitches!
His rough touch ignites the sparks that lay dormant deep in my belly, and the flames shoot out to my limbs, raging through my insides like an inferno. Again, I have to ask myself what kind of a crazy bitch gets turned on by some vengeful assailant? By a monster?
My mind is so thickly coated in cobwebs of pure carnal lust, I still haven’t managed to process his caustic words beyond the fact that he clearly hates my family and wants to use me to torment them.
My gaze drops to my left where my open laptop sits on top of the comforter. I'd fallen asleep to a movie, but now, the laptop looks like a pretty good weapon.
I have one hand.
One chance.
So I take it and pray.
I grab the laptop lid and fling it at the side of his head. The laptop slams into his temple and he grunts, clutching the side of his head where I made perfect contact.
