Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I say simply. “It matters very much. Because I don’t want a martyr in my bed, Lilian. I want someone who begs for what I give them.”
She takes a deep breath, seeming to center herself. “I’ll do anything,” she repeats, but this time with a heavy sigh that speaks volumes. “Whatever it takes to help him.”
Her tone makes something dark curl in my gut. This isn’t desire. This is sacrifice.
Noble, selfless Lilian offering herself up to save her precious stepbrother.
I push my plate away, appetite gone. “Eat.”
Her fingers toy with the fork, pushing food around without taking a bite. “I’m really not hungry.”
“Fine.” I stand abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. “Let’s skip the pretense then. If you’re so eager to trade your body for his freedom, we might as well begin.”
Her eyes widen slightly, but she nods, rising from her chair with the resigned dignity of someone facing a firing squad. She walks ahead of me to the bedroom, steps controlled. No hesitation. No fear. Just acceptance of her fate. When she reaches the bed, she simply sits on the edge, hands folded in her lap.
“Should I...” She gestures vaguely at her clothes, voice impossibly small.
“Should you what? Strip? Lie back and think of England?” The sarcasm cuts through the room. “Tell me, was this how you imagined your first time? Offering yourself like a virgin sacrifice to the monster under the bed?”
Her lack of response infuriates me further. She simply shifts up the bed, lying back against the pillows, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“Go ahead,” she says softly. “I won’t fight you.”
The last remaining shreds of control sever. This passive surrender isn’t what I want. Isn’t what I’ve been fantasizing about since I first pinned her against that wall. I want her fire, her defiance, her reluctant desire. Want her writhing under me, fighting her attraction even as she surrenders to it.
Not this...compliance.
Anger burns in my veins. The need to destroy, to hurt overtakes me. I grab the lamp from the nightstand and hurl it against the wall. The shattering of glass makes her scurry back against the headboard, her blue eyes wide with fear.
“What—”
“Is that what you think this is?” I snarl, snatching a book from the shelf and throwing it to join the shattered lamp. “That you just lie there like a corpse while I take what I want? Some noble sacrifice for your precious stepbrother?” More anger. More rage. I grab another object—a glass paperweight—and throw, watching it explode against the concrete wall with grim satisfaction.
“Arson, stop—”
“No.” I turn to her, breathing hard. “You stop. Stop this pathetic martyr act. When I decide to fuck you, you won’t be lying there enduring it. You’ll be begging me for it. Desperate for it. So wet you can’t think straight.”
Her cheeks flame, but her eyes hold mine, something shifting in their depths.
“Is that understood?” I demand, voice dropping dangerously.
“Yes,” she whispers, and for the first time tonight, I hear a tremor of something besides resignation in her voice.
“This isn’t a transaction.” I kick the broken glass aside, stalking toward the bed. “This isn’t you paying some price. It’s not a fucking business arrangement.”
Her eyes track my movements, wariness replacing that infuriating resignation. Good. I need her present. Need her feeling every second of this.
“Then what is it?” she asks, voice steadier now.
I grab the edge of the mattress, flipping it partially so she tumbles off with a startled cry. The bedding follows, sheets and pillows scattered across the floor.
“It’s submission,” I growl, yanking her up by her arm. “Real submission. Not this calculated surrender you’re offering.”
She stumbles against me, hands bracing on my chest. “I don’t understand what you want from me!”
“Yes, you do.” I grip her chin, forcing her face up to mine. “You want this as much as I do. Since the moment I shoved my cock down your throat. You’re hiding behind a lie, pretending you’re just doing this for him.” My other hand slides down her back, gripping her hip to pull her flush against me.
“I—” Her breath catches as I deliberately roll my hips against hers.
“Say it.” I back her against the wall, one hand moving to tangle in her hair. “Say you want this. That it’s not just about saving him.”
“Why does it matter?” she challenges, that fire finally returning to her eyes. “If you get what you want either way?”
I laugh darkly. “Because I don’t want what you’re offering. I want your real surrender. Your real desire. Not this pathetic imitation.”
To demonstrate, I grab her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand while the other skims down her body. She shivers under my touch, pupils dilating despite her attempt to remain distant.
“See?” I murmur, lips brushing her ear. “Your body already knows what you’re trying to deny.”
“That’s just physical,” she argues, but her voice has gone breathless. “It doesn’t mean anything.”