Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
I can’t die. Not yet. I haven’t experienced the world yet. Haven’t had a chance to even discover who I really am. Hell, I haven’t left the state. Haven’t learned how to cook. Haven’t experienced any wonders of the world. I live in my little apartment. Go to work. Come home. Hell, sometimes I go to the gym, but that’s predominantly so I can screw Nathan Cole in the bathroom and thoroughly get off. But apart from that, I haven’t lived, and I’m not ready to give it all up now.
My knee shoots up between us, aiming directly for the crowned jewels, but because the fucker is so damn tall, it takes almost a lifetime for my knee to connect. With my lack of oxygen, my idea of a devastating blow is more like a love-tap, but it’s enough to surprise him, and for just a second, his hand eases on my throat enough to suck in a desperate breath.
Rage sparks in his terrifying stare. “You want my cock, Menace, you better fucking beg for it.”
I spit at him, clawing at his arms and trying to bend his fingers away from my throat, but he’s too damn strong. Every inch of his body has been carved from the densest stone, and in comparison, I don’t stand a fucking chance. “What? Your little pin dick? Oh, trust me, Stone Blackthorne, no woman in their right mind is ever going to beg for that kind of disappointment.”
He roars in frustration, pressing harder into me, that wicked stare burning me alive. “You—”
Whatever insult he was going to hurl at me is interrupted when the conference room door finally gives way. The prisoners spill in like rabid animals, throwing one another into walls and shoving their way through the broken door to be the first to get their hands on me. Their putrid stares focus on me, and I realize in the blink of an eye that I don’t fear Stone half as much as I fear these men. He had his opportunity to take from me, but he didn’t. He’s no rapist. Even after seven years deprived of having his dick sucked, he didn’t even attempt to touch me. But these men, they sure as fuck don’t share those same morals.
They will destroy me. They will take and take until there is nothing left, and they won’t stop until long after I’m gone. I can’t go out like that. I just . . . fuck.
My body trembles as my gaze snaps up to Stone’s. “Please,” I beg, tears rolling down my cheeks as I desperately search for any signs of humanity within his dark eyes. “Please. Kill me before they get their hands on me.”
His brows furrow for just a second as if he’s caught off guard, but the moment the other inmates finally reach us, something snaps inside of him. It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever witnessed.
“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER,” he growls, the sound echoing right through my chest as he whips around with such force that the two men closest to us fly back against the concrete wall, one of them cracking his skull with a sickening thud. His body goes completely limp against the ground.
“Is he . . . Is he dead?” I gasp, but my question goes unanswered as Stone sets his full attention on the other men in the room.
He moves like lightning, and I watch in horror as he almost seems to smile. It’s as though the idea of getting to slaughter every one of these men has filled him with the greatest happiness.
He lunges at them, one after another, as the alarm screeches through the prison, eerily echoing through the long hallways. The men keep coming, their wicked stares locked on my body, but Stone is a fucking animal, taking them out one after another, but I don’t get it. Why is he protecting me? Why go through all this if he only wants to see me dead? It doesn’t make sense.
As they keep coming, I drop to the ground, trying to curl into a ball behind Stone as he snaps necks like glass.
Someone grabs the discarded chain off the ground and whips it toward Stone, but all it does is anger the beast as the chain bounces right off him. He steps away, putting space between us, setting his sights on the chain wielder. Without a single thought, I scramble across the blood-soaked ground, my eyes locked on my target.
Just a little bit closer, and I’ll be okay.
My knees slam against the hard ground, and I crawl like a fucking baby, climbing over fallen bodies as I inch closer and closer to the fallen guards. Two of them are already dead, but the other two were only knocked out. One has already been dragged from the room, and inmates are using him as a punching bag. The other . . . if I could only get to him, then I might stand a chance. A small one at least.