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“Maybe. But we’re a perfect pair, Becca. I love taking control, and you secretly crave being dominated. I promise you tonight, I'll push your limits until you forget even your own name.”
“Fuck you!” I try to twist away, unable to bear his presence any longer, but Manasseh grabs my arm and pins me against the cold, metal bench.
I refuse to give up, even in this final moment. I clench my thighs together, trying to resist his advances. But his slippery fingers easily slip back into my pants, and despite my resistance after experiencing the effect of his touch, it only fuels his anger even more. He plunges deeper inside me, using both fingers this time.
I furrow my eyebrows and squirm helplessly, forced to submit to his dominance.
“You’re ready.” He pulls his hand out of my pants and flips me over onto my stomach. My legs dangle in the air while my hips press against the cold, dirty metal bench.
“Ughh...” I grit my teeth as the ropes tied to the panel start choking my wrists. It hurts, and I pant, resting my forehead against the dusty metal, the smell of motor oil filling my nostrils.
Manasseh doesn't ignore me. He eases the grip of the ropes a bit, pressing his massive chest against my back. As he slowly pulls down my sweatpants, I desperately struggle against the irritating ropes that dig into my skin every time I try to escape.
“Yeah, maybe your soul belongs to him, but you're my girl, Becca. You can't be any different when you only smell of me.” His tongue traces my pulse line, and his fingers tangle in my hair, grabbing my ponytail like a leash.
I let out a sarcastic laugh and shake my head, wincing as his heavy palm smacks my butt playfully.
“I find it pathetic the level you've stooped to. Forcing a woman to be with you? You, the so-called perfect guy who had girls breaking their hearts just for a chance to end up in your bed?”
“I know you're bluffing, thinking you can get away with it easily, buy ain't taking any risks.”
“Whatever! Do whatever you want to me, push me as much as you want. But guess what? You can only have me like this, never willingly.”
“Oh, really? So, that's how you want to play...” He seems intrigued, and I have a feeling things are about to get even worse. “Well, let's change the rules of the game then. I don't want you to give in so easily to me.”
CHAPTER 14
Present
Rebecca
I hear a loud noise from somewhere in front of the garage, and several figures catch our attention. I see the metal gate opening, and two men engaged in a heated conversation.
Without saying a word, Manasseh quickly unties my wrists with swift movements. Without saying anything, Manasseh swiftly unties my wrists, takes off his cloak, and dresses me in one fluid motion, cinching the coat tightly around me with the cord. Finally, he looks at me to see if I'm covered enough.
As he reaches his hand towards my face, I flinch and instinctively move away.
“Shh, it's okay, Becca. Don't move. It's over. For now...” he sighs and wipes away my tears with his thumb.
That “for now” is enough to make me breathe a sigh of relief. I feel my muscles relaxing, as if my body believes him, even though my logical mind is skeptical. I don't get what's going on, but I'm exhausted.
Without saying another word, Manasseh runs his hand through my hair, which he recently tangled like a wild animal. But when he can't fix it, he pulls the hood over my head. His whole attitude has flipped in a split second, but I'm so freaking tired that I could pass out right here.
I gaze up at the dark sky and inhale the scent of damp earth. It's going to rain all night, I think to myself, then I glance at Manasseh who's adjusting his clothes and hair with swift movements.
“It's over. For now...” his words echo in my mind.
“We have to leave the park,” one of the men at the entrance tells us.
Manasseh wraps his arms around my shoulders, but I stumble after a few steps.
“Take our things to the car,” he orders the man, and without warning, he scoops me up in his arms. “And grab that from the ground and put it securely in the red box in the trunk.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the men picks up the mask from the ground, carefully dusts it off, and then wraps it in his own jacket as we make our way towards the car. I don't resist because I don't have enough energy to do so. I let him carry me to the car, but I refuse to look at him from that moment on. At the exit, three more guys dressed in black suits were waiting, probably his associates. Manasseh climbs into his black G-Class with me, after the driver opens the door, and he circles the car, taking the wheel.
“Home, Peter.”
“Of course, sir.”
