Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 77171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I didn’t mean to—”
He raises his hand, and for a moment, I think he’s going to slap me.
He doesn’t.
“Did you not understand what I meant when I told you not to talk?” He shoves me against the wall, harder than he did the last time he was here.
I let out a gasp, but I stand my ground. “I’m not afraid of you.”
This time he grabs my shoulders and pins me flat against the wall. “You should be,” he says, “and what the fuck did I tell you about not talking?”
I say nothing.
“I should punish you,” he says. “I’ve punished other women for far less.”
The idea of punishment should scare me. And it does. Sort of. But it also lights a fire inside me. The thought of his hands coming down on me, the thought of him binding me…
Is that what he means by punishment?
I don’t know, but part of me desperately wants to find out.
Another part of me? She wants to run like hell.
But a third part of me wants to tell him to stop. To push against him, exert what little strength I have.
Sure, I know it would be futile. But that part of me wants to do it.
“God, what you do to me…” He leans close, inhales against my neck. “You’re playing with fire, Delaney.”
“Maybe I like fire,” I whisper.
He grabs one of my breasts, pulls it out of the red dress, and pinches the nipple hard. “What did I say about talking?”
“Is that my punishment?”
He twists the nipple again. “Oh no. I may be hurting you a little right now, but you’re loving every minute of it.”
I don’t bother to deny his words. He knows I’m turned on. Hell, I can already smell myself.
“You’re getting wet, aren’t you?” he says against my earlobe.
I say nothing. After all, he told me not to talk.
“Good girl,” he says. “I told you not to talk, so you didn’t answer.”
“I figured you could smell my arousal,” I say. “After all, I smell it. But whether or not I’m turned on doesn’t mean you get to control me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, baby,” he says, nipping at my earlobe and then biting it hard.
I can’t help a squeal.
“I control everything around me,” he continues. “And I’ve been controlling you since we first crossed paths.”
This time I do push back. To no avail of course. The man is the size of a tank. But no one controls me. Not for a very long time, anyway.
“Nice try,” he says, one of the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
“You can tell me not to talk,” I say. “You can twist my nipples until they fall off. You can make me wetter than any man ever has. None of that means you control me.”
A low rumbling comes from him. I almost mistake it for a chuckle, except he’s not smiling.
“You don’t listen. I told you not to talk.”
“How am I supposed to not talk when you keep asking me questions?”
He grabs my throat, squeezes enough that I catch my breath. “I’m not asking you any questions. I told you who’s in control here, and it’s not you. If I wanted to, I could fuck you right now. Right up against this wall. You could scream and yell and tell me to stop. I could snap your pretty little neck if I wanted to, and there’s not a damned thing you could do about it. You could scrape your fingernails over me, sink your teeth into my flesh. None of it would stop me.”
I swallow audibly.
I should be frightened. I should be crying, begging him to leave me alone.
Instead?
I want Samson to take me.
I want his roughness. His dominance. His beast.
And I shouldn’t want any of that. I was attacked tonight because of him. Not because of him specifically, but because of what I’m doing, and that involves him.
“That person tonight,” he says, as if reading my mind, “could’ve killed you, Delaney. If he had been ordered to, he would have.”
I shudder.
I believe him. And I believe that if that shadowed man had wanted to steal from me or rape me, he would’ve done that as well.
“He will pay for it,” Samson says. “He will pay for touching what’s mine.”
I gulp again.
Did he say mine?
Then his lips are on mine, his tongue diving between them. He drugs me with his kiss, and thank God he’s pressed against me, because I don’t think my legs would hold me up.
I should stop him. Even though he says I can’t stop him, I believe that if I truly wanted to stop, he would.
But I’ll never know.
Because I don’t want to stop.
His control over me tightens. The kiss and his movements get rougher, more urgent. He pushes his hard cock against my belly, grinds into me.
My breasts are already free, and my nipples hard as rocks. I squirm, shiver, arch my back.