Page 69 of His UnBearable Touch

He had his hands in her hair. Fingers combing through her thick waves. Curling a length around his finger. Lifting it to his nose and taking in a long noisy breath.

His hands on her shoulders, squeezing, fingers trailing down the length of her arms, trying to hold her hands.

When he settled his hands on her hips, she froze.

When his fingers started to inch her skirt up, her stomach twisted and flipped inside of her and she pulled the fabric from his hands.

“No.” She shook her head and turned.

The sudden movement was something neither of them expected and her forehead connected with him. Where she didn’t know, but it hurt.

And something cracked.

“You broke my nose!”

She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Karmic Justice, she repeated in her head.

“Bitch!”

She should have expected the open-handed slap that knocked her off of her feet, but it had been so long since she’d faced his kind of anger. The ground rushed up to meet her and the hard crack of her tailbone against the floor took the very air from her lungs.

“Why can’t you just let me love you?”

She wanted to keep quiet, she wanted to just hide, pretend she was invisible and hope that he’d give up and leave her alone, but when she felt his hand on her ankle something inside of her changed.

She didn’t break. She’d already done that.

No, this time, when she felt his hand on her she remembered that she wasn’t that same person anymore.

She’d faced the darkness and found love. And if it took everything inside of her, she was going to fight for that. Fight for herself.

She kicked out and felt the impact all the way up to the top of her leg. His grunt of pain made it worth it, but it only made him angrier.

He grabbed a hold of her legs, but she continued to kick at him, cheering herself on when she felt her feet connect. For once, she’d wished for heels, some punishing stilettos that would have killed her otherwise. She was at a disadvantage, she didn’t know what else was in the room, but she used each kick to propel her forward, her hands frantically reaching for the unknown.

“Hold still,” his fingers dug into the tender flesh at the back of her knee.

She kicked out with her other leg and cried out, she’d only succeeded in driving his fingers deeper. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her, but she’d cry about it later. “No.”

Saying the word again and again felt so good, like a mantra and a prayer. All cathartic as hell.

But it didn’t save her.

Not when he had size, strength, and sight in his favor.

The moment her hand closed around something that was heavy and hard she ground her teeth together and tried to swing, only to find out it wasn’t something she could move.

It managed to pull her hair from his grip. She heard his muttered curse.

But she also felt his hand close around her throat.

“Why do you have to fight me?”

She gasped for air, her hands clawing at his arm, but her short-trimmed nails didn’t do her any favors.

“Why?”

How she would have loved to spit in his face and snark back at him that she couldn’t very well talk with his hand choking the life from her, but she was almost perversely happy that he was getting more pissed by the minute.

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