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“Last chance, Lia.” He strokes my hair like a doting lover.
I stare at the metal headboard with its exotic golden motifs, refusing to look at him. “Last chance to allow you to break me? Never.”
“As you wish, Lenochka.”
My muscles lock whenever he calls me that, and I have no idea whether it’s in a good or a bad manner. Just like most things he does to my body, whether it’s the way he touches or handles me. I want to convince myself that I hate them, that I can’t stand them orhim. However, a morbid thing inside me beats out of control whenever he puts his hands on me. Whenever he’s anywhere near me. I want to think that I’m drawn in by how different he is, how silent yet lethal, but it runs darker and sharper than I’d like to admit.
Adrian unhurriedly removes the scarf that’s been holding my hair. He then pulls both of my wrists up and ties them to a metal nook near the headboard that seems to be designed for this purpose.
Did he do this to his wife before, too?
Chasing that thought away, I test the knot, but it doesn’t budge. It isn’t tight enough to cause pain or cut off my circulation, but it’ll prevent me from moving or freeing my hands.
A sudden panic expands in my ribcage like wildfire, eating away at everything in its wake. He can hurt me and I won’t be able to defend myself.
“You don’t have to tie me.” The emotion is apparent in my tone, and I hate it. Ihatethat I’m allowing him to see me like this.
“So will you do as I asked? Will you offer yourself completely?”
“No!”
“Then we will do it my way.”
“Adrian…”
“Yes?” I can feel him positioning himself behind me, and that fills me with both horror and a sickening type of anticipation that I’ve only experienced once, when he bent me over on the table this morning.
“Is there any way you’ll stop this?”
“Not unless you take my other option, no.”
“Are you ever satiated? If I give you more, will that even be enough for you? You took everything from me,everything. Why are you demanding more?”
His heat radiates against my back, even though he’s not touching me, and that does weird things to me—things that make me clench my thighs. “I didn’t take everything from you, Lia. You want to believe that because it’s easy to blame others for your mistakes, but that doesn’t make it true.”
“You brought me here and took me from my life.”
“Correction: I saved you from it.”
“First, you think you’re merciful, and now, you believe you’re a savior? You need a wake-up call!”
His fingers sneak over my collarbone and I stiffen as they trace up to my chin, propping it up as his lips find my ear and whisper in hot, dark words, “Maybeyoudo.”
My lungs burn and it’s then that I realize I haven’t been breathing since he caught hold of me. His fingers are caring, but couldn’t be any more brutal.
“Tell me to fuck you,” he rasps.
“Fuck me,” I murmur. “But you won’t be hearinganything.”
I realize my defiance has tapped an invisible red line when his fingernails dig into my skin for the briefest of seconds before he releases me.
“I was generous enough to give you two chances, but you chose poorly. As I already mentioned, defying me will only result in breaking the stubbornness out of you. Challenging me is like swimming against the tides, you’ll eventually tire and will be swept away by the current. Understand this, I make the challenges, not the other way around. It’s time you learn that.”
His impassive voice should have no effect on me, but it locks my muscles into a rigid line.
He lowers my shorts down my thighs, and even though it’s similar to what he did this morning, it feels entirely different, tenfold heightened. His hands are like lava from an active volcano, or maybe that’s my skin.
His finger curls into the band of my underwear. “You’re still wearing the ones from this morning. Did you like walking around all day, remembering how your cunt came undone from my fingers?”
