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“No. Please don’t.”
A shadow of the man I was forces my hands off of her and I climb off the bed.
She scrambles to get away, but before she reaches the door, she looks back, the gleam of a grin on her face.
It’s the biggest mistake she ever could’ve made.
I’m on her in the next second, uncaring of the way her body crashes to the door.
The cops won’t be called. Crackheads don’t give a shit what’s going on next door. They mind their damned business because they want others to do the same.
I press every inch of my naked body to hers, crushing her until she’s taking ragged breaths.
“Your safe word is El Salvador,” I growl into her ear.
Chapter 8
Lauren
El Salvador.
The place we met.
The place he discovered what I needed.
He was never the man capable of offering that to me.
He’s that man now.
Coming in here was stupid. Threatening his life was worse.
Two huge mistakes.
Two things I knew I had to do.
Two things I’m paying for now with the weight of him crushing me to the point I can only take very shallow breaths. Eventually, I’ll pass out if he doesn’t shift his body.
It terrifies me, but not because I’m afraid of what will happen if I do. It scares me because I don’t want to miss a second of it.
He’s going to hurt me tonight, his weapon of choice thick and hard against my ass. My blood sings, the chorus to the song he’s going to make me scream tonight.
I yelp out in pain when he grips a handful of my hair and jerks my head back.
“Did you fucking hear me?”
“El Salvador,” I confirm. “Got it.”
It’s not a real out. I have no doubt if I say it, he’ll just use it to torture me further. The man is deranged. There isn’t a hint of the man who begged me to stop touching him in that hallway long ago.
The only way this is going to end is with me bleeding and him exhausted.
“Pants off,” he growls, not pulling back an inch to give me room, nor releasing my hair from his fist.
I do my best, tears streaking down my face as my knuckles scrape over the roughly painted door I’m pressed against. It reeks of stale cigarettes and musk. The entire room is dank and disgusting. It’s the perfect setting for the shame that will engulf me later.
As I try my best to get my jeans down, he rips my shirt right up the back, his hot breath on my shoulder in an instant.
I don’t have time to wonder what he’ll do next because he sinks his teeth into my shoulder blade, and the pain radiates from the bite.
