Page 34 of Biker Bride (Hell on Heelz MC)

I was frozen, unable to move as he trailed the knife down my neck, over my collarbone, and between my breasts. My arousal was instant and jarring. I hated that he had this effect on me.

“Admit it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. “You love the danger. You crave it.”

“Fuck you,” I spat, my voice trembling.

He let out a low and dangerous chuckle. “You’re a dirty little whore, Sybil. And you’re all mine.”

He slid the knife down, tauntingly tracing it over my stomach. “You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted me to take control, to dominate you. To put this baby in you.”

I couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through me, even as I hated myself for it. "Vince, please," I pleaded, completely uncertain about what I was requesting.

He shifted the blade back up to my neck, holding it there as he kissed me roughly. The kiss was demanding, filled with a need that matched my own. I hated him, but I wanted him. The conflict tore me apart.

“Tell me you’re my bride,” he demanded, his voice rough.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. I was utterly vulnerable to him, and a part of me reveled in it.

“I’m yours,” I whispered, the words burning my throat and a tear escaping.

He pulled back, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “That’s right,” he said, his voice softening. “You’re mine, Sybil. And I’m not letting you go.”

He dropped the knife, and it clattered to the floor. His hands were on me then, tearing at my clothes, his lips claiming mine in a brutal kiss. I was lost, consumed by the fire between us. The fear, the thrill, the danger—it all blended together, leaving me helpless and wanting.

“Vince,” I moaned, my body responding to his touch despite my mind screaming for me to stop.

He pushed me onto the bed, his hands rough and demanding. “You’re going to learn, Sybil. You're going to fall in love with me."

He tore off my clothes, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. I could feel the cool air on my skin, the anticipation building. He followed, shedding his own clothes with a fevered urgency.

“Please,” I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head as he positioned himself over me. “You’re mine, Sybil. And I’m going to show you exactly what that means. I’m not letting you get away this time.”

I was entirely at his mercy, and there was no going back.

The night was filled with wild, dangerous moments. Vince had taken me to the edge and back, pushing boundaries I hadn’t even known existed. Every touch, every kiss, was a mix of anger, desire, and a need to dominate me. He had proven that he owned me, body and soul.

I woke up the next morning, the bed cold and empty beside me. My body ached in the best possible way, but as I tried to stretch, reality came crashing back. Vince was gone, and the room was eerily silent. I glanced around, taking in the luxurious surroundings, but something felt off.

I tried to get out, only to find that the door was locked from the outside. Panic set in as I pounded on the door, shouting Vince’s name. “Vince! Open the door! What the fuck is going on?”

Silence.

I tried the windows next, but the bars were still there, mocking me. I was totally confused, my mind was all over the place trying to understand. Had he really left me locked up like a prisoner?

“Fuck!” I screamed, kicking the door in frustration. “Let me out of here!”

There was no answer. I felt my heart thumping in my chest as I realized the full extent of my situation. Vince had no intention of letting me go. I was trapped, nothing but a pawn.

I sank to the floor, my mind spinning. How could I have been so stupid? How had I let myself fall again? I thought about the night before, the way he had assumed control, the way he had made me feel both terrified and exhilarated. It had all been a sick way to keep me under his thumb.

Desperation clawed at me as I searched the room for anything that could help me escape. My knife was gone, taken by Vince. I had no means to defend myself, no means to fight back.

I glanced around the posh room, at the fancy bed where we had some mind-blowing sex and just felt so hopeless. I was stuck, all alone in a fancy cage with no way to get out.

As the hours ticked by, my anger grew. Vince believed he could manipulate me, believed he could confine me like some sort of prize. But he had no idea who he was dealing with. I was Psycho, a Hell on Heelz biker chick, and I wasn’t going down without a fight.

I started to formulate a plan, my mind racing with possibilities. There had to be a way out, a way to escape this nightmare. I refused to be his prisoner, refused to let him win.

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