Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“You’re going to fuck me, aren’t you?”
“Is that what you want, Log? For me to fuck you?”
As the breath behind those words slams against my neck, a voice in me, maybe that darkness or some masochistic part of myself, tells me yes.
“No.” That shouldn’t feel like a lie, but it does.
“That’s not what your mouth told me when you swallowed my load.”
A flash of pure contempt moves through me, and I spin to him, seizing him by his jacket collar and shoving him back into the bookcase. “You forced me to do that.”
Despite my aggressive act, he’s quiet, studying me. The way his gaze travels around my face is so slow, so precise, like he’s taking in every detail, committing them to memory. “What else would you like me to force you to do?”
There’s that rush of adrenaline again. I tell myself my body’s confused, mixing up the fear with something else, but all I want to do is take his mouth, which feels like it might be the only thing to quiet these urges in me. I have to get away from him, so I release him and turn around, when I feel his hand against my arm. It provokes something in me, and I spin back, my hand balled in a fist, ready to make contact. I growl when Killian grabs my wrist, stopping the attack, his leg kicking mine out from under me.
I take him with me to the floor, and the way he lands on top of me makes all my defenses kick in. I’m a caged animal, and much more successful now than I was in the bathroom after my jog. I’m proud as I lay blows into him, punishing him for everything he’s done to me—from telling me about the agreement, to tricking me into swallowing him, to wanting me to eat that goddamn salad. Although, at a certain point, I’m not even hitting Killian anymore, but anyone who’s ever slighted me, my mind flashing to that blood-splattered day at Hayward.
Killian absorbs my blows at first, then gets hold of my wrists once again. In a sharp move, he rolls me over, twisting my arm behind my back. “Fuck!” I call out in pain, rearing my head back as he whispers against the side of my face, “God, I love that fire in you.”
It takes me a moment to process the words, to realize Killian doesn’t despise me for attacking him in his house. “Something’s seriously wrong with you,” I tell him, still struggling, and he tugs my arm back farther.
“I swear I’ll break it.”
Given his tone, I don’t doubt it. I freeze in place, catching my breath as my nerve stings up to my shoulder, like the threat of him breaking it is closer than he realizes.
When I groan, he says, “Bet this is making you as hard as it’s making me.”
I hadn’t even considered something so perverse, but I can’t deny that my cock is straining in my boxers.
“It’s not,” I lie.
“Say it again, only this time knowing if you lie to me, I’m gonna bend you over my desk and take you no matter how many times you scream no.”
I weigh the consequences of lying to him again, willing my body to be honest, but it betrays me. “It’s not.” I say it so softly, I’m not even sure he can hear me, but he releases my wrist. I try to roll forward to prevent him from getting a feel, but he’s too quick and grabs my hard cock, squeezing. A low rumble of a chuckle slips past his lips. But now’s my chance, so I roll toward him, bringing my fist around, decking him in his cheek, making his head jerk to the side. “Get the fuck off me,” I demand, continuing my assault until I buck him off me.
I climb to my feet and start for the door, not sure what the hell I’m doing, only that I need to get away from him, especially after what I’ve just done. But a tug at my pants pulls me back, Killian grabbing my legs and yanking them out from under me. I tumble right back to the floor, onto my belly. As I recover, he crawls up my body, practically drags himself onto me so his weight pins my body to the floor. I try to roll toward him, but he gets a hook around my throat, keeping his hold tight enough to strain my windpipe.
“Fuck,” I grunt as I realize he’s gotten the upper hand once again.
“Oh, what’s this?” he asks, though I’m not sure what he’s seeing, so I do my best to turn my head, just as he’s reaching into my wallet with his free hand. The condom I put there is slipping out. He snickers. “You put this in here for me, Log?”