Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Bile climbs up my throat, and I have to clamp my jaw shut to keep it down, to keep myself from gagging. I hate him so much. There’s no telling with Yanov what will happen next; all I know is nothing he says is an idle threat.
His hands climb higher and circle my waist. "Such a beautiful girl. I knew the moment I met you that you would be mine.”
Disgust sticks to my insides. I was only a child when my father introduced me to Yanov.
Without warning, he stands, and I shudder with fear as I squeeze my eyes closed.
He stalks behind me, circling me like prey, and I try my best to remain still, because drawing more attention to myself is stupid, but there’s nowhere else for him to look. Nothing else he finds as entertaining as terrorizing me.
His fingers skim over my shoulders, his touch haunting, a nightmare that never ends. It’s like he’s inspecting me, inspecting his next meal. I cast my gaze to the floor, afraid my facial expression might give away how fucked up I find this whole situation.
Is it too much to hope Sebastian will notice I'm gone and come for me? That he might save me? I shake my head, refusing to let hope bloom. No one has ever saved me before.
Why would they now?
I snap back to the present when something cold and hard presses against my skin. It takes me a second to recognize the metal of the knife as he drags it over my shoulder and skims up to my neck. Try as I may to control my fear, my body refuses to hold it all in, and I tremble uncontrollably when he trails the tip of the blade around the back of my neck and to the other side of my shoulder. The shoulder with his name carved in it, the one punctured with a bullet hole scar.
Phantom pain skates up my spine. I grit my teeth, knowing more will come.
What is he going to do? Mark me again?
I'm so tense my abs lock up, and my knees knock together.
"Oh look at you, Ely. I'm not going to hurt you." His voice is soft, soothing.
I know better than to fall for his lies.
He circles around to face me again. "Why do you think I'm going to hurt you? I didn’t work this hard to rescue you only to turn around and hurt you when I finally have you all to myself.”
There’s no right answer here so I stay quiet.
"Answer me," he snaps.
I shake and shiver again at the tone of his voice. I know that one more than ever. More sweat slips down my face, and fear tightens deep in my gut.
"Because you always hurt me when I don't give you what you want."
He leans in and whispers against my mouth. "And see, this is why you always end up hurt…not because I want to hurt you. I don’t, baby…not at all. But because you don’t think about things before you do them, you end up hurt. If you don’t want to be hurt, then all you have to do is listen. Do as you’re told, and you’ll be fine. I’ve said that a million times, haven’t I?”
It’s not that easy, but I don’t tell him that.
“I’ve always done as I’m told. It’s when I don’t do what you want that you hurt me.”
A sinister smile appears on his lips, “Then do what I want.”
I grit my teeth, biting back a retort I know will get my teeth sent through my brain. “And what do you want?"
My response only makes him smile wider. "You, my little dove. Just you. And now that I have you, I'm going to take what I've wanted for years. It doesn’t matter to me if that asshole little boy had you first. Once he’s dead it won’t matter, anyway. All that will matter is who gets to be the last person to fuck all your tight holes, and that person is me.”
His words splinter through me, making my stomach roll, bile climbing up my throat. Shit. I think I’m going to vomit. God, I hope not. I can’t. Not right now. Leaning in closer, I fold my lips together to try and stifle the nausea.
"Nothing to say?”
All I can do is shake my head, tears clinging to my eyes, my stomach aching, threatening to spill out my disgust.
He continues. “That’s fine by me. I don’t need you to speak, not for what I plan to do.”
Standing once more, he reaches to undo his belt, and I squeeze my eyes closed, contemplating my next move as the sound ripples through me. I have to do something, anything. Opening my eyes again, I watch as he tugs the leather through the loops of his jeans with a sibilant hiss and then tosses it behind him onto the bed.