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The way he murmured my name made me shiver all over again, and I shut my eyes, blocking out the red painting, unable to focus on anything other than the way he held onto me. The low, dangerous timbre of his voice. How he stood so close to me I could feel him breathing.
I wasn’t some girl who ran and hid at the first sign of trouble. I didn’t faint at the sight of blood. I wasn’t someone who had to look away when she saw death. I was no scared little girl. The dark things in life had always lured me in, but this… this was different.
Gareth was more than dangerous. I could feel it in my soul, could hear the titillating, telltale depravity in his voice. From the first moment I met him, I didn’t like him, and now I knew why.
He made me want to run. He made me want to scream. Gareth made me want to do everything I’d never wanted to do before. I feared I wanted nothing more than to push him off me and get away from him, even if it meant I had to crawl.
But at the same time, he made me want to do the opposite, and maybe that’s what I dreaded the most.
My breath came out pitched and uneven. “Let me go.” Even as I said it, it didn’t sound like there was much heart behind it. It was like I already knew he had me, that he could do whatever he wanted to me and a sick part of me would enjoy it.
Gareth would destroy me, and I’d let him, because I wanted to know what being destroyed felt like.
“And why would I do that?” Gareth whispered, one of his hands releasing my arm, only to snake its way up to my neck. It curled around my throat tightly, not hard enough to choke, but enough. “Why would I let you go when I have you right where I want you?”
I couldn’t say anything else. My whole life I’d tried to do the right thing, to be good—and not once had it ever been good enough. Not good enough for my mom, and therefore not good enough for anybody.
Gareth was everything I should hate. He used people however he wanted. He was cruel and ruthless. No part of me should be attracted to him at all, and yet…
“I admit,” he went on, the other hand on my arm dipping lower, curling around my body until it curved along my thigh and snaked between my legs. I fought to ignore the pressure of his hand through my leggings, but that didn’t stop me from inhaling sharply. “I’m starting to see your appeal. Maybe my uncle was right. Maybe you are perfect for me.”
That got me to open my eyes and stare at the painting before me again. With Gareth’s body practically encasing mine, I couldn’t move. He had me trapped, and he knew it.
Perfect for him.What was he talking about? What did he mean? What—
All thoughts vanished from my head the moment the hand between my legs went for the band of my leggings. I tried grabbing his wrist before his hand snaked beneath my panties, but I couldn’t. His fingers dipped low and grazed the side of my clit.
“Stop,” I breathed out the word half-heartedly, my head dazed.
The hand around my neck tightened, a reminder of who was in control here. Hint: it wasn’t me. Gareth’s other hand started to rub me, somehow finding the most sensitive part of me and making me moan.
“Tell me to stop all you want,” Gareth hissed out the words, pulling my body against his as hard as he could. “I won’t stop. I’ll do whatever I want to you, take whatever I want from you, and I won’t ask permission. You’re here for me, Brianna, to keep me out of trouble—so why don’t you shut up and help me do just that?”
I wanted him to stop.
I didn’t want him to stop.
I… goddamn it, I didn’t know what I wanted. Everything in my head was so hazy, I couldn’t think straight. The only thing I could do was stand there and let him touch me, let him hold onto my neck like he wanted to choke me while he rubbed my clit.
“I’ll—” It was the only word that I could say.
“You’ll what? Tell? Please. How many times do I have to say it?” Gareth’s voice came out so dark and disturbingly menacing, it shouldn’t turn me on… but it did. “You’re. Here. For. Me. You have no power here. You can’t run. You can’t tattle like a little bitch. We own this town. Do you think anyone would go against us, all because some new girl cried wolf?”
I held onto the wrist that worked between my legs, and my other hand lifted to grip the wrist of the hand around my neck. I didn’t try to pull him off me; I couldn’t. I simply stood there, eyelids fluttering, as I tried so desperately to fight the way my body was reacting to his.
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. It was wrong. This whole thing was wrong. I wanted him to stop… but having him stop was literally the last thing I wanted. To say I was conflicted would be a huge understatement. I didn’t know what to feel.
So, instead of pointlessly trying to get him off me, instead of yelling or fighting him, I simply muttered, “I hate you.” It was true enough. Gareth was easy to hate.
“Good,” he whispered, his fingers working faster over my clit, pinching and rubbing it in a way that got my hips moving. “Give me your hatred. It won’t change the fact that you’re mine. Mine to play with. Mine to use. Mine to throw away when I get bored.” The hand on my neck squeezed hard enough to choke—but only for a few seconds. “You better hope you’re enough to keep me interested for a while. I don’t think you’d like what happens to my toys when I get bored of them.”
Each and every word he spoke was laced with venom. He sounded like he hated me, like the revilement went both ways, and yet I couldn’t stop my hips from moving. I couldn’t stop myself from rocking against his hand as a low pressure started to build inside my lower stomach.
No. Oh, God. No. I didn’t want to come on his hand. I didn’t want him to see just how easily he could have me. I wanted to fight him, deny him, tell him off—and if I was in any state of mind to do any of that, I would’ve.
But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t fight the way my body reacted to him, couldn’t stop my hips from moving and grinding myself against his hand while he rubbed my clit. The pressure in me built and built, growing stronger and stronger until I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
It hit me, the orgasm. It exploded inside of me, waves of bliss and pleasure, a heated release, helping me come undone. My body spasmed, my clit aching for more. The only reason I didn’t cry out when I came was because of the hand around my neck. I could scarcely catch my breath.
