Page 53 of Ditching the Dragon (Fated Dates)

“Show me you’re mine, gorgeous,” he murmurs. “Come for me. Squeeze my cock and fulfill every fantasy I’ve had for weeks.”

I grip his ribs, and he rolls his hips, and the climax erupts within me. It isn’t some streaming explosion of pleasure, but a bubbling over of the heat and electricity that his patient insistence has wrought. It’s worn my body down to the point it no longer wants to resist.

When he comes, his mouth strains in a smile. Sharp teeth peek out, and I worry he’ll bite me, but he doesn’t even try.

We lay together, both exhausted, until his breathing finally slows.

Wick finds his feet and wanders into the bathroom to toss the condom.

The door shuts, and I realize this is my opportunity.

My clothes are rumpled but usable.

I don’t bother to dress.

The emergency exit is only thirty feet from my door. I would know; I’ve started planning escapes. I’ll disappear into the stairwell, dress quickly, fly down the stairs, and walk out the door like nothing is wrong.

I swipe my purse.

I can’t believe I’m about to wander naked through the halls after hate sex with Wick. Who even am I anymore?

Wick feels more and more inevitable, and I can admit that the idea calls to me more than it ever has.

...but the prospect of losing all my freedom and being locked away in some isolated country estate crashes a strike of panic through me.

I just need some space. A few clear moments outside of the fog of Wick’s possessiveness to decide for myself.

I reach for the door.

I want it to bemydecision and not just his.

But when my hand hits the handle, there’s a pinch on my neck.

And everything fades to black.

Chapter Fifteen

When the world comes into focus, I’m lying in a massive California King in a sunny bedroom. The four-poster bed is like something from a fantasy catalog. Ornately carved and gilded spindles ascend and stretch gauzy white material overhead.

A bit extravagant, but it isn’t a dungeon, so I surmise this is some type of upscale hotel.

Perhaps a bed and breakfast?

Light streams through the shears and makes me wince when I peer in that direction.

My limbs are heavy, but I don’t think I’m hurt.

Well, my female parts are sore, but that’s less of an unknown cause.

Smooth silk slides over my skin. The drawstring pants and short-sleeve button down shirt is blue with white piping on the edge.

Wait,didI change hotels again?

No. I ran from Wick, but I don’t remember picking this place. Maybe when the dick is that good, it causes memory loss.

I stretch and sit up in the bed. My purse and bag are neatly arranged on a dresser across the room, so I know I’ve escaped. I must have gone back for the rest of my stuff.

Hot coffee would do me wonders. I’ll splurge on breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant, and it’ll come back to me.

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