Page 37 of Locke

“Yes.”

“Never.”

“We’re equally stubborn, but the difference is I’m the predator, and you’re just the prey. The prey may duck and weave, but the predator always gets the kill.”

I looked at his lips forming a thin line. My heart stuttered at the achingly beautiful man that looked back at me. “You don’t know me, Locke. You might be able to overpower me, but my will is unbreakable.”

He seemed satisfied with my response, his lips curving up in a delicious smile. “I’m counting on it.”

He looked less menacing right now. Like the armour was down and he was just a man standing before a woman. It was deceptive, and I shouldn’t have, but I felt a little more at ease. For all I knew, he could have been manipulating me. So, I regained my composure, hardened my eyes and looked at him with as much loathing as I could muster.

But it was an act.

Truth be told, Locke was fascinating. I’d known him for barely a minute and he had done unimaginable things, but heaven help me, he was still able to draw me in, and no amount of resistance was squashing those flutters in my belly. If anything, they were multiplying, and I couldn’t justify it.

It simply was.

He shut the water off and motioned me out. My legs wobbled as I stepped out of the shower, distinctly aware he was close behind me, his eyes blazing a path down my naked body.

My minutes were numbered.

I was a fresh piece of meat to the real lion.

The atmosphere shifted the second I was back in the room. The bed was a filthy mess, covered in rope, grass blades and dried mud. I stopped before it, my heart beating erratically now as I felt his form close in on me from behind. Breath held in my lungs, I spun around, coming face to face with him. He stared down at me, that amusement long gone and replaced with that dark, predatory gaze he’d given me in that grassy field.

“How are we doing this then?” he asked in a low tone. “Will you surrender to me, or will I have to chase you down?”

“Don’t,” I simply responded, unmoving.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do this.”

“Why?”

I felt my eyes well. “I’m—I’m not going to give in, Locke, and if you touch me, you’ll be fucking me against my will.”

“You conceded to me on that field.”

“That was then, this is now.”

He wasn’t listening. “Surrender, or fight.”

I stepped back, repeating, “Don’t.”

Locke’s eyes drifted over my body, and the raw desire could be felt simply from that stare. “I’ve been in control too long,” he explained. “And you want your power taken. Tell me I’m wrong, that you aren’t cut from the same cloth, and that divine providence didn’t deliver you to me.”

But I didn’t.

I just stared at him as he gave me that sombre look, softly saying, “No more, little lion.”

A tear fell down an eye as my voice broke. “I’m going to fight.”

He nodded once, saying with finality, “So, fight.”

And that…

That was how our toxic relationship began.

---