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I’m not sure why.
Storm clouds took up residence in my stomach and pushed the sunshine away.
The darkest nights give way to the most brilliant stars which is why I shouldn’t be afraid.
Fear lingers in the depths of my subconscious, stirring up churning torrents of trepidation.
"Black."
My pedicurist flips through the shades. "Choose which shade of black you want."
I glance at them, then take a sip of my latte. Brock and Rook were kind enough to install a custom espresso machine in my kitchen a few days ago, one that produces only pumpkin spice drinks. Last night, I had pumpkin spice hot chocolate before bed.
I also haven’t been brutalized in quite some time, so life couldn’t get better.
"The blackest."
I glance out the window, then see clouds congealing over Central Park. Families with their small dogs and children leave the paths in droves to get to nearby coffee shops. Lightning flashes in the distance, and sure enough, the storm in my gut isn’t the only one happening today.
"You’re smart to choose that." My pedicurist issues me a sad nod.
My brow furrows. "Why?"
"Today is a very difficult day for one of your partners. I expect him to show up soon."
My latte slips out of my hand and crashes to the ground. Apricot yelps, then burrows into my chest. I suck in deep gulps of air to calm myself, but my throat thickens, making it tough to breathe.
It’s been so nice having a reprieve from the Sinners’ constant bullying. Brock and Rook haven’t forced me to my knees in the middle of any hallways around campus, nor has Colt shoved his cock down my throat lately. I’ve been able to eat solids, and the Estonian food Esmerelda whips me up is divine.
That’s when the front door to the penthouse swings open.
Colt enters, his eyes blazing with anger.
"Leave."
One word.
That’s all it takes for my manicurist to scamper out of the room, the nail polish briskly whisked away.
Colt is all menace and cruelty today. His icy black eyes are stone cold, and the way he stares at me sends chills creeping up my neck. His muscles bulge in his Balenciaga leather jacket, each bicep packed with sinew that would terrify most girls. His chiseled jaw doesn’t waver as he shoots me down with his predatory eyes.
Something is different about Colt today. Something I’ve never seen before. Colt is the roughest and cruelest of the three Sinners, but at this moment, he lacks any semblance of humanity. He seems as if he’s in a trance and can only think about destroying everything that lies in his path.
"No." I scoot back, clutching Apricot as I try not to gash the bottom of my foot on my broken mug. My little toe touches my spilled drink, which is turning chilly. "Give me a second. Please."
Colt pounces on me.
Two hundred and fifty pounds of sheer alpha man drill me into the ground, pinning me to the marble floor. He’s so powerful and strong the force of this movement knocks the wind out of me. My hair flies back, shooting in every direction as his rock-hard abs, biceps, and hips slam down on me.
I cry out, my body twisting away from him.
He clamps my wrists behind my head, then yanks his zipper down. "You’re going to take it like the good slut you are. You’re not going to talk back or give me any shit.Not today."
"I’m not ready." I’m wailing now, so shaken by his sudden display of alpha aggression.
And yet, my body tingles in places it shouldn’t. I try to bargain with myself, to tell myself that I don't want this. I ought to scream at Colt to leave and find some other girl to brutalize. Women aren’t tools for men to beat with their cocks whenever they please. We’re people too. People with needs. Wants. Opinions.I need to use my voice to tell Colt to quit hurting me.
All of this is a filthy lie that my body rejects. Heat blooms in my core, turning my folds wet. I clench my thighs, willing my body not to react this way, but my pleas fall on deaf ears.
