Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
I’m blurry and confused, but Silvan’s deep voice is like an anchor thrown ashore, jerking me from the fog and bringing me fully into his still dark bedroom.
His hand is locked around my throat tight enough to trigger a small wave of panic. “What did you just say?” he growls.
My heart slams forward in my chest. I grab his wrist, trying to pull it from my throat. “I… I… I don’t know. I was asleep.”
“You said a name.”
My heart sinks.
“I—I said Silvan,” I lie on impulse.
“Really?” he asks silkily. “Because it sounded an awful lot like Dylan.”
I gulp, and with his hand wrapped so tightly around my throat, I know he feels it. “I… Those names sound similar enough. You must have misheard.”
His eyes narrow to slits. He’s thoroughly unconvinced, but rather than press the issue with words, he pulls his hips back and drives into me harder.
I gasp as my body stretches around his cock. That full feeling, it’s this.
He started fucking me while I was asleep.
My heart pounds furiously as I become aware of the assault on my body. I can’t escape the feeling of fear, but I know I won’t be able to stop him if I fight, so even though I want to at this moment, I don’t. I hold his wrist and he holds my throat while he fucks me roughly, keeping me pinned to his bed, even my breaths controlled by his firm grip.
The message is clear: my body belongs to him.
He doesn’t even need my permission to use it.
The sick part of me responds to his ruthless domination. It craves the times he fucks me when he’s angry with me because he does it without care, using my body in such a way that I know I don’t stand a chance fighting him, so I don’t have to.
He releases my throat and pulls out of me, but my relief—disappointment?—is short-lived. He rolls me over so I’m facedown on the bed, then pulls my hips up, spreading my thighs wide and positioning himself between my legs.
My pussy throbs, waiting for him. My heart hammers because what’s wrong with me?
Then he grabs my hips, his hands rough and unforgiving.
He brings his cock to my entrance and shoves in hard, making me cry out at the merciless intrusion.
He fucks me without guilt or concern for my comfort. Every thrust is deep, hard, and relentless. My body scurries to accommodate the invasion of his. I must have been slick when he first entered me because while I feel the familiar tugging and friction as my skin stretches to accommodate him, it’s not painful.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
His voice is a little mean and makes my heart flip over in my chest.
I don’t want him to be mean to me.
Panic swells up as he eases down, sliding his hand around my throat, forcing me close as he comes down on top of me.
“Who do you belong to, Sophie?”
“You,” I whisper.
It feels like an absolute betrayal to myself, but I know it’s what he wants to hear, and I want to give him what he wants so he isn’t mean to me.
The warmth in his voice drizzles through my veins and kindles heat between my thighs. “Mm, that’s a good girl. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. But you knew that, didn’t you? You’re always willing to placate me when I scare the living fuck out of you.”
That’s an uncomfortable thing to hear, but I guess it’s not untrue.
“I’m never sure you mean it, though, that’s the thing. Can I trust you once the words have been spoken? Or are you just saying whatever you have to say to get away with as little damage as possible? Are we running in circles, Sophie?”
I swallow, but don’t say a word.
Taking my silence as insufficient reassurance, apparently, he speaks again, his breath hot against my ear. “Do you know what I would do to a man if he touched you?”
His voice is like poisoned silk held over my mouth, the toxicity invading my senses and making me light-headed. I swallow, but I can’t speak.
“I would rip him limb from limb. I don’t mean that metaphorically, either. I would literally sever any part of him that touched you from his fucking body.”
His words intensify my fear but pull me closer to him as if seeking his protection.
From him?
Absurd, but it feels reliable.
He’s angry right now, but I’m not truly afraid he would hurt me. Whatever faults he has, I know how much Silvan values me. Even though it feels mildly psychotic to admit this even to myself, I even believe he might love me.
Or at least think he does.
And I know Silvan would protect me from any threat. I know that in my bones.
Maybe that’s why I feel the rush of fear and the familiar tightness in my chest, but it never escalates to a full-blown panic attack. Mere memories can send me into one, but actually being held down, threatened, and used by Silvan doesn’t.