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Instead of taking the opportunity to run, I follow behind him, catching the door to his room before it can close in my face. I have no doubt if it did close, he wouldn’t open it back up for me. The man doesn’t care if I come inside or not, and that’s what drives me into the darkness.
The blinds are closed, but I let the door close at my back anyway, the room in complete darkness.
My breathing grows erratic as my eyes try to adjust to the darkness.
Before I can change my mind, a hand grips my throat, my back slamming against the closed door.
He doesn’t curb his aggression, doesn’t pull back at the last minute in an effort to keep my head from smacking the wood. Instead of begging to be let go, I feel a smile turn up the corners of my lips.
Fear and arousal tangle together, making something so potent inside of me I start to crave even more of it.
“Scared?” he asks, a repeat of the same challenge he gave outside.
“Terrified,” I answer honestly, the white of his teeth flashing in the darkness.
“Smart girl,” he says, but even as he pulls his hand from my throat, he steps closer, his body pinning me to the door.
He pulls his shirt over his head. As much as I ache to trail my fingers down the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, I somehow know touching him without permission isn’t allowed. I don’t think asking would grant it either, so I don’t bother.
His lips are warm at my throat as his hands travel the length of my body. It makes me wish I were completely naked, just so the heat of him could settle inside of me.
“Get naked,” he growls as he takes a step back. As much as I’d like for him to be the one to undress me, I’m not going to argue with him, either.
I’ve never been in a situation like this. If anything, the guys I’ve been with in the past are more prone to ask permission than issue a command. But with the way my body reacts to him, I’d say I’ve been missing this very thing. Arousal becomes a living breathing thing inside of me as I pull my sweater over my head, feeling his eyes on me as if the man can see in the dark.
His palm is rough on my breast the second I unlatch my bra and let it fall down my arms.
“Keep going,” he growls when my arms fall to my side as I relish the attention he’s showing my body.
My skirt pools around my ankles, the whisper of it down my tights more sexual than it probably should be. He has every cell in my body screaming for pleasure or pain, or maybe an erotic combination of both. I don’t care what the man has to offer, just so long as he gives it to me.
He takes a step back, making me crave him even more when he pulls away. I shove at my tights, pushing them, along with my panties, down in one go.
I feel his eyes locked on me as I kick off my shoes, a thrill running through me when I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper. I ignore that disappointed part of me that has no business in this room, since I have no fucking clue who this man is. There’s living dangerously and then there’s being completely stupid.
I reach for him, running my hand down his arm. Angry puckered flesh meets my fingertips, but he shrugs away from me before I can explore further, leaving me unable to determine if he’s scarred or if the tattoo marking his skin was just drilled so deep in his skin that it left ridges behind.
The only light in the room is sneaking in around the curtains and filtering in from what looks like cigarette burns. This type of motel is the kind of place where people don’t ask questions and the clerk at the front desk is just as likely to pocket the money after renting the rooms out by the hour as he would be to put it in the cash register. It’s the type of place where secrets go to die.
It’s the perfect place for tonight. The perfect revenge against my sister. She isn’t the only one who can be depraved after acting so fucking innocent while we were younger.
I push down the hatred, hating the taste of it on my tongue. She doesn’t get to ruin this for me, too.
His hands are on me again, the brush of his thick cock on my stomach a thrill I can’t describe. He’s nothing like Blaine could ever be, and it wasn’t until recently that I realized it. Blaine is safe, a sure bet for a comfortable future, but I have no business even thinking that way. Safety and comfort mean nothing. It can still all end in a fiery crash, so why waste time being safe when things like tonight make life so much more exhilarating?
