Page 12 of Wicked Games

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed, absolutely mortified.

Before I could turn back around, his hands darted out to grab my shoulders, holding me in place.

Keeping his dark eyes on mine, he moved his hands down my arms to grasp each of my wrists. He tugged.

I resisted. “No,” I whimpered.

Ignoring my weak protest, he pulled my arms free. My breasts felt heavy as they fell slightly the moment the support of my arms was gone. Refusing to look down, I could feel my nipples tighten. He pushed my arms behind me, securing them with one large hand at my lower back. The movement pulled me toward him, pressing my half naked form against his chest.

His other hand cupped my jaw before weaving his fingers into my hair. Tightening his hand into a fist, he grabbed a handful of curls and used them to force my head back.

I cried out from the sting of pain as tears pricked my eyes. He almost seemed pleased with my reaction.

My lower lip trembled as I begged him, “Please. Don’t.”

It’s not that I found him unattractive or didn’t think having sex with this man would be an amazing, mind-blowing experience; it was just that he was… too much. It was too much intensity. He had too much power… too much strength. I felt as if I were being dragged underwater. I couldn’t breathe.

The fact is… he scares me to death.

First his lips lightly traced my jawline; I could feel my body slightly relax from the unexpected gentle touch. My mouth fell slightly open.

It was just the sign of weakness he needed. The kind of moment a predator always seized. That barest of seconds when its prey forgot it was being hunted and let its guard down.

His mouth fell on mine. His tongue swept in, taking possession. Our kiss didn’t taste like mint or whiskey or even tobacco… it had the harsh metallic tang of blood. The force of his lips pressing against my own cut the soft delicate inner skin with the edges of my own teeth.

Feeling the hard press of his cock against my naked stomach, I was powerless to stop him from taking whatever he pleased, even once he released my arms to grip my head and push me against the wall. I tried to fight him off, beating my fists against the top of his arms, fighting against his grip on my head, which he used to keep me in place for his assault.

This wasn’t a kiss… it was him staking his claim.

Finally, he released me. Sliding along the wall, I tried to place as much distance as possible between us in the small room. Pressing the back of my hand against my now bruised and swollen lips, I sobbed, “Why? I don’t understand.”

And I didn’t. I had seen him occasionally on the set and out in the audience during rehearsals and the run of the play. Always he was cool and detached, playing the businesslike, rich executive producer. Not once had he ever approached me or even given me a look of interest.

“You will.”

Taking a step back, he picked up his coat and unlocked the door. Without even turning around, he commanded, “I will return in five minutes to escort you to the party.”

There was a brief burst of loud noise as he opened the door, then the room once more fell silent.

Except for the screaming in my head.

CHAPTER 4

LIZZIE

Ididn’t even think of escaping. Deep down I knew it wasn’t possible. I’d never get out of the theater without someone stopping me or asking where I was going or why I wasn’t headed to the party. Plus, I had no idea if Richard was standing just outside my door and I was way too intimidated to peek out to check.

Obeying his command, I finished dressing. I did think about appearing in the off-the-rack cocktail dress I had planned originally to wear but an image of him dragging me back to the dressing room and stripping the clothes off me was extremely vivid in my mind. I knew it wasn’t just a possibility, it was a foregone conclusion if I tried to defy him.

After putting on a matching black lace bra and panties’ set, I slipped The Vampire’s Wife dress over my head, and felt the cool silk slide down my body. It was a street-sweeping dress so the length pooled on the floor about me. Usually a slim-fitting bodice would be too tight across my larger chest but this fit perfectly. As if it had been tailored just for me. Under the sheer tulle was a champagne silk shift, so the dress gave the impression of bare skin barely concealed by the black velvet flowers. Inside the box I found a pair of high heels and a pair of gloves that perfectly matched the dress. The gloves stretched all the way up my arms till they reached the dress’s puffed sleeves.

Looking in the mirror, I saw the dress gave mixed signals. On one hand it was seductive with its fluted hem cut and black lace over skin appearance but on the other, I was fully covered, from my toes to my chin, in fabric. I immediately thought of a Victorian gown, designed to entice and show off a woman’s curves and yet equally meant to convey a sort of icy distance, an aura of being a pretty object not meant to be touched by others.

With shaking hands, I rifled through my purse for some makeup. After touching up my foundation and mascara I realized I didn’t even need lipstick. My already full lips were stained a bright cherry red from the forceful press of his mouth.

After what I was sure was precisely five minutes, there was a discreet knock on the door. I opened it to see Richard standing there with a fur wrap in his hand. Placing it on my shoulders, he offered his arm. “Shall we?”

Stifling a sudden desire to break into almost psychotic laughter over the formal politeness of his gesture given what had transpired between us, I gave him my arm.

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