Page 6 of Obsession

Tucker was going to make her beg. Even though she’d never pleaded with a single soul until she’d set eyes on him, and she’d sworn she never would. As the reality dawned on her, there was little doubt in her mind. He would achieve it. He had the means and the obvious inclination.

If it was possible, her heart accelerated at the danger of that certainty. He was going to do something to her. Something over which she had no control, but beyond the obvious performative denigration he clearly enjoyed, she had no idea what he meant by the threat.

“I’m sorry that I ran.”

Unable to think of anything else to say, she spewed another insincere apology. She wasn’t truly sorry and, given half a chance, she would no doubt run again, but it was possible she might regret inciting the current turn of events.

“Oh, Ella.” His smile lit up his face, revealing the same handsome features that had started to thaw her earlier in the day. “I know you might believe that, but I promise you that you’re not sorry yet.”

His gaze was hungry as it devoured her breasts, and taking his time, he edged the blue blanket farther down her body. Time froze as he inched it along her midriff, stopping only inches short of where her pelvis began. The dread crawling around her skin chilled her limbs until she could hardly feel her fingers and toes.

“But you will be.” His attention skimmed along her bared skin until he found her face. His eyes conveyed a mixture of emotions, but she struggled to decipher them. The man wielded such power over her at that moment—the power to be kind or cruel, the power to starve or feed, and in the end, the power of life or death—to not know his mind only exacerbated her alarm. “I promise by the time I untie you, you will be sorry.”

“Oh God.” She believed him. There was no doubt about that.

Few people on the planet had ever truly produced sorrow, regret, or remorse from Ella, but staring into his cold blue eyes, she had the sense that Tucker was one of them.

Balling into fists, her fingernails dug into the palm of her hands as she tried to calm her breathing.

“What are you going to do?”

Or more like, what am I going to do?

The question reverberated in her mind as his lips twisted.

Somehow, his silence was even scarier than his menacing tone.

“That’s enough of your questions.” Leaning toward her, he pressed one fingertip to her lips and hushed her.

Panting around the digit, her eyes widened with dismay. She wanted to bite the finger and spit in his face, but her panic guaranteed her acquiescence. However much it pained her, she wasn’t an idiot. Until she could find a way out of his binds and his cabin, there was no choice but to conform.

“Quiet, little girl, or I’ll find your ball gag again.” There was absolute sincerity in his voice. “Is that what you want?”

No!

She might not have been permitted to speak, but Ella was certain that the word burst from her every pore. She knew her eyes delivered the message, whether or not her lips remained passive.

“No?” His tone was tinged with conceit, her toes curling at the sound.

Jerk. Her gaze narrowed at his superiority complex.

Could she really have ever admitted, if only to herself, that she desired the arrogant oaf? If so, she’d been blind to confess such an abhorrence. Blinded by terror at her captivity, perhaps? That was the only logical explanation. There was no way she craved a man as cruel as Tucker.

No way in any of her twisted daydreams that she could want a man as sordid as the one towering over her.

She shook her head, uncertain if her glare conveyed the distress or contempt swilling in her emotions. Maybe it made no difference either way. Tucker seemed hellbent on enacting his sick revenge, whatever her view.

Her body stiffened at the terrifying prospect. He was angry, and he could do whatever he liked with her. How was she ever going to get away from his clutches?

It wasn’t the first time since she’d roused in the forest alone that she’d stared down the barrel of her own mortality. As her gaze flitted past his head to the wooden ceiling, she had to wonder if the inside of his unimpressive cabin would be the final view she ever saw.

“Good.” The pressure on her lips lessened. “Then we agree.”

Agree? Inwardly, she scowled at the premise. She didn’t agree with anything the man had done, and whatever her fate, she had no clue how he, or her useless father, could live with themselves.

“Lie here and take your punishment.”

His gaze bore into her expression, compelling her to remain as impassive as she could. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal the true extent of her terror. It was awful enough she’d admitted her fear, only for it to be dismissed out of hand. She couldn’t allow him any more power in their already stacked dynamic.

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