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)
“Careful,” he says.
“Or what?”
“You won’t like what happens next.”
My heart is racing now.
But I don’t step away.
Not from him.
Not from this.
“Try me.”
That does it.
He moves.
Fast.
One step.
Then nothing between us.
His hand still around my neck. The other braced beside my head.
Again, I’m caged in.
His mouth is right there but his lips aren’t touching me. The space between us is unbearable.
“If I start this,” he says, voice low, rough, “I don’t stop. I’ll take all of you. Every fucking bit, Delaney. I’ll take that forbidden hole in your ass. I’ll fuck you and fuck you and fuck you until nothing is left of you that I haven’t touched. That I haven’t cursed. That I haven’t claimed as mine.”
God, the heat. His amber eyes, his full pink lips, his low and rich voice.
“Do you get it yet? Do you? I’m not just any man, Delaney. I’m the beast that will give you nightmares.”
Beast. Nightmares. His hot body, his hard cock, his claws and his teeth…
It’s too late to turn back.
And the truth?
I don’t want to.
“I know,” I say.
And this time I lean in first.
39
SAMSON
I crush my lips to hers, pry them open, thrust my tongue into her hot mouth.
She kisses me back. She’s a good kisser, an active and willing kisser.
And this time…
Fuck…
This time, she knows. She knows what will happen. She knows I’ll take every bit of her, rip her apart, take what’s left of her soul and crush it beneath mine.
I break the kiss and inhale, sucking in air.
Then I toss her over my shoulder, walk down the hallway, away from that cursed door and that cursed lock.
She squeals, the sound trembling as if she’s unsure.
I don’t care. My blood is boiling. I take the stairs two at a time and carry her past the landing and down the hall to my room—the main bedroom, not the guest suite I had made up for her.
My space in my castle.
My haven.
My prison.
I let her down, but only so I can see her face. She wants this. I see it in the way she looks at me, lips parted, pupils blown so wide her silver eyes are almost black.
“Take a look,” I grit out. “See where you’ll become part of me.”
She swallows and looks around the room. At the dark pecan bed frame and dressers. At the silky black comforter and blood-red pillows.
The beast’s lair.
“You think you’re going to frighten me now?” she says.
“It doesn’t matter if I do.” I sear my gaze into her. “You’re here, and I’m going to do what I please with you.”
She laughs this time, as if she can’t believe I said it, like she can’t believe any of this is real. She lifts her chin, showing off the pink rash from my beard against her jaw.
She’s more brave than smart. Or vice versa. I’ve stopped being able to tell the difference and I don’t care anyway.
I step into her space, crowding her backward until her knees hit the bed. She sits, palms splayed on the mattress, her whole body crackling with a dare.
If I wanted her on her back, she’d already be there. But I want her upright, eyes level with mine. I want her awake for every second of this.
“I could make you beg,” I say, suppressing a cruel smile. I don’t disguise the hunger in my voice.
She blinks. “Maybe you could. But you won’t.”
The edge in her voice, all that boldness. I could snap it in half.
But she dares me with her mouth, with those soft, perfect lips, and I feel my control burning to shreds.
I stand between her knees and fist a hand in her hair, gripping it, forcing her head back enough that she can feel the threat humming from my skin to hers.
“Why won’t I?” I stare her down, daring her to answer wrong.
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look away. “You like to watch, Samson. You want to see what I do.”
She’s right. It’s disgusting how right she is, how I want to see what she becomes for me. With me. Because of me.
I want to see her surrender, and I want her to know she does it willingly. I want her to never stop thinking about who she becomes in my hands.
My cock gives such a lurch that it hurts, but I don’t move to touch her. Not yet.
She sits there, head bent at the angle I hold it, her pulse thudding against my fingers where they bite into her scalp. Still defiant. Still hunting for the upper hand.
I want her to win, and I want her to shatter. I want to see her smile in victory and then sob in loss, both in the same night, both on the same lips.
She’s still wearing the leather coat I gave her, the sleeves covering her hands. She’s small like this, perched on my bed, dwarfed by oversized pillows and the heavy darkness of my room.