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A knot in my chest ached at his sudden absence. Maybe I had expected him to stay. I should have felt relieved. Duncan would be on edge with his trip coming up, and the devilishly handsome stalker lurking outside every night had been nagging at him.
Duncan had said numerous times that he didn’t believe in long-distance relationships, so I hoped that I could encourage the distance long enough that our relationship fizzled out for good. I just had to make it through one more night without a big blowup argument. Vassago not being outside the window would make that more obtainable.
“Celeste.” Duncan’s voice came from the top of the steps.
My head whipped around.
“Hurry up and get inside.” He held the door open.
“Okay.” I tucked the coin into my pocket and did what he asked.
My heart slammed against my sternum. Had he seen me talking to Vassago? Seen the demon disappear into the thin night air?
I scurried up the stairs into the entryway. When I turned around to face Duncan with half-hearted explanations, he was slamming the door and turning on me. His hand reached out to grab the scruff of my neck. I yelped as the hair tangled in his fist sent sharp pains shooting through my body.
“Why was he here again?” he seethed through gritted teeth.
“I don’t know.” I squirmed in his hold. “You’re hurting me.”
He ignored my plea and pulled me closer. “I see the way you look at him when you think I’m not watching. You look for him everywhere you go and never tell him to leave.”
“I told him to leave. He’s gone.” I tried to keep my voice level through the searing pain at my scalp. “Please. You’re scaring me.”
“You haven’t touched me since I got back from Boston. Even when you’re home, you’re not really here. You’re only ever with him.”
My heart raced and tears blurred my vision, but I could still see the malice on Duncan’s face.
I’d never seen him so furious.
He walked us into our bedroom, my shoulder bumping hard against the corner of the doorframe. The backs of my knees hit the mattress, but instead of letting go of me, Duncan pulled me up harder against him. He took my bag off my shoulder and tossed it to the ground.
“You’re going to remember whose girlfriend you are. Who fucking owns you.” He fisted the top of my blouse and ripped down.
Buttons went flying.
My fingernails clawed into the soft flesh of his arm, but if he felt the pain, he wasn’t showing it. “Please don’t. Stop. Please!”
His determined fingers pulled at the zipper of my jeans, and when he couldn’t get them loose, he threw me onto the bed. My arm hit something hard. The mystery object and I bounced with the force of my landing, but he was quickly on top of me, straddling my thighs. Between my shock and panic, he’d gotten my pants down around my knees.
“Stop!” I cried out again. “No.”
“Shut up. You fucking cheating bitch.”
His hand flew over my mouth and nose, restricting my breathing. I swung my fists, hoping to connect with his face. He grabbed at the solid mass next to me then brought it up for me to see. It was a metal bar with handcuffs attached to it.
My eyes bulged as his free hand clicked the first cuff to my flailing wrist. The cold metal bit into my skin. He brought the bar down to my throat and put his weight on it as he quickly fastened the other cuff around my other wrist.
I twisted under him and brought the bar up with as much energy as I could muster, but his hand caught the middle before it reached his face. He pulled his shirt off and stuffed the sweaty fabric into my mouth to muffle my screams for help.
“Your stalker fuck buddy can’t hear you.”
He kicked at my pants, trapping my ankles together, and hooked an arm under my thighs to push his knees between them. The bow of my legs framed his unyielding hips. I bucked, tried to toss my weight from one side to the other to dislodge him, but he held firm. His other hand reached up and pinned the bar to the bed, his dead eyes eating up my vision.
“Do you beg like this for him?”
Hot, grating breath rushed over my cheek. I screamed through my gag and shook my head, trying desperately to convince him that I had remained faithful. If reason hadn’t left me at the front door, I would have known that no amount of begging was going to stop him from what he had planned. And he had planned it.
We were not into kink. This bar was brand new. We’d never discussed permissions or hard limits because this would have been one of mine.
