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How long had he been here? Why didn’t he kill me while I slept?
You fool. You’ve heard the rumors. He likes the torture. He likes inflicting pain. He probably wants to hear me scream and beg for my life.
I wish I was strong and could say I wouldn’t do any of that. But that was a lie.
“Come here, Liliana.”
I shook my head, and hetskedand leaned forward in the chair, bracing his forearms on his knees and staring at me.
“Ah, sweetheart,” he all but purred. “You’ll come to realize that denying me what I want only makes me harder than fucking steel.”
My throat was tight and dry, and my head rushed with this intoxicating high that terrified me.
“Ora, fai la brava ragazza e vieni qui, cazzo.”
Moisture pooled between my legs despite the fact I didn’t understand a word because he spoke in Italian.
“Now, be my good girl and fucking get over here.”
My heart raced, and the sound of that promise and violence all mixed was like a shot of heroin in my veins.
This man was dangerous. He was dominant. Aggressive.
And here I was, obeying him and moving closer.
When I was only a few feet away, my heart started beating so fast and hard that I wondered if he could hear it, if he could smell the sweat pooling between my breasts and sliding down the length of my spine.
My fight-or-flight instinct was strong, my body screaming that I needed to get far away from the danger.
Yet, my feet stayed cemented in place, my hands curled so tightly my nails dug into my palms painfully.
There was this resolve that settled inside of me. I would not back down.
If I was going to die, I would at least do it with my eyes open and my head held high. I might beg. I would probably plead, but I would look him in the eye when he ended me.
“Just do what you’re going to do,” I whispered those words, not even realizing I said them out loud until they hung in the air between us.
He didn’t respond. I didn’t even think he breathed as he stared at me.
I moistened my lips and uncurled my fists so I could run my palms up and down my outer thighs.
“And what is it you think I need to get on with, baby?”
I didn’t allow myself to think of the endearments. I knew this wasn’t a good man. He was playing with me.
A cat-and-mouse game. Tossing me in the air just to watch me fall back down to the ground a broken, limp mess so he could continue to do it repeatedly.
“Just kill me.” I bit my lip hard enough I felt the skin break, tasted the metallic tang of blood on my tongue. “I know that’s what you want to do anyway,” I whispered, feeling my whole body shake but was proud of myself for keeping eye contact with him.
I noticed his jaw clench, his expression hard as he looked at my face, spending extra seconds on where my healing bruise was.
“Because that’s what you’re going to have to do. I won’t let you use me.”
He didn’t respond, just stared at me with an unreadable expression.
“It’s good you see me as a monster,” he finally said.
He leaned back and spread his thighs slightly, his body massive in the chair, dwarfing the size of the small piece of furniture.
