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I stared back at him without blinking, faking a confidence I didn’t feel. I hated to be touched. I swore years before that I would never be held down again, yet there I was, crushed against a car by the very person who had sent my life into a downward spiral.
“And I thought I made it clear,” I shouted at him, “that I don’t give two fucks what you think or want!”
His fingers loosened from my cheeks and dropped to my neck. His large hand wrapped around my throat and tightened. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it was enough to hold me in place. I should have been scared to death, but I wasn’t. I faced my demon without blinking. I had never felt more powerful. Yes, his hand was around my neck, but strangely, I felt like I had all the control in the situation.
He shifted against me, and the electricity that shocked my body was unexpected. For a minute, I dropped my eyes away from his and lost my breath again. His thumb skimmed across my pulse point, and my heart raced faster than the bikes around us, threatening to slam to a stop. A mixture of anger and something I would never admit to swirled low in my stomach, and I shook.
A gentle throbbing sensation pulled between my thighs, instantly nauseating me. I had never felt anything like it, but I wasn’t stupid and knew what it meant. I was turned on, and I couldn’t figure out what it was about the situation that made my body respond that way. Mentally, I was fucked, which meant my body didn’t usually respond. Not even in the rare moments when I found myself reading a smutty book Sadie suggested. The black stains on my memories prevented it from happening.
I was sick with myself—for allowing myself to feel such things. What would the fourteen-year-old me who was held down against her will think?
Then I remembered what was happening and looked Saint in the eye, ignoring the warning bells blaring through my brain.
His expression changed from anger to arrogance, and I knew when the side of his thick lips slanted into a knowing grin that he saw the brief slip of my brave facade—saw my unwanted reaction to him and the way my body disgraced me.
He leaned over me, his grip on my neck tightening. He brushed his lips against my cheek before he whispered in my ear. “You like this shit, don’t you?”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckled. “What’s wrong, Tori? Feeling a little weepy between your thighs?”
The way his whispered words tickled below my ear and across my neck sent a wave of shivers through me. The smell of alcohol and smoke mixed with what I now knew was his natural scent rushed through my senses.
When I didn’t respond, his smile grew even more prominent.
“You’re into being choked, huh, dirty girl?”
I swallowed, wishing I could think of words to dispute his realization, but there were none. He was right. I was sick and demented and more broken than I could ever comprehend.
What kind of person enjoyed being choked by their enemy? Especially a person who had been through the things I had been through.
When I didn’t respond, he kept going.
“Is that what you want, Princess? Do you want me to choke you while I fuck you? Because if you keep coming to The Strip, I’ll assume that’s what you’re coming for.” Again, his whispers ruffled me.
He cupped my side with his large hand, pulling me closer into his hard frame. Every comeback that rolled through my brain froze on my tongue, and I grew stiff. His body pressed against mine sent fear rushing through my consciousness, yet he was right. My body cried for more. It confused and disgusted me all at once.
“You’re gross,” I spat, trying to push him away from me.
It was the only thing I could manage. Words had failed me entirely as my synapses backfired, forcing me to blink up at him with wide eyes.
His fingers flexed around my throat as he looked down at my chest and chuckled. “Tell that to your perky little nipples. They’re rock hard. I think they disagree.”
I squeezed my arms between us and crossed them over my chest.
“I hate you,” I seethed.
He shook his head and chuckled once again. “Hating me is making you hot, sicko. I bet your pussy is dripping.” Then he shocked me when he bit my earlobe.
I gasped at the pain.
The rest of his crew walked up behind him, and the second he felt their presence, he moved back and released his chokehold. I sucked in a deep breath and rubbed at the sore spots around my neck. I didn’t have time to prepare before he went harder—tearing into me and the embarrassment of my body in a way that left me trembling and exposed.
“Seriously, Princess, if you’re here for cock, all you gotta do is ask. I’m down for a good hate fuck if you are,” he said loud enough that everyone around us could hear him.
The crowd snickered, and Joker smirked at me from Koah’s side. Evilness and hatred rolled from his body in waves.
“I wouldn’t touch you if someone paid me to,” I replied.
