Page 108 of Depraved Desires

He took a step forward. “It’s not what I wantwithyou, but what I wantfromyou. Ask the correct questions if you want the right answers.”

This time it was me who took a step forward. No more hiding. No more running. If he wanted to play, then that’s exactly what he’d get. Play stupid games, win stupid fucking prizes.

“Then what is it you wantfromme?”

“Your life.”

He lunged forward, clasping his hand around my throat. Panic speared my chest, and I didn’t hesitate, bringing the knife up and slicing it across his face. Somehow, even that didn’t deter him. He backed me against the tree, grabbing my arm with his free hand and slammed it into the hard bark. Panic shot through my limb, making the knife fall from my fingers. I squirmed beneath his hold, but he pressed his hard body into mine, locking me between him and the tree behind me.

I squinted, his features becoming more pronounced with him up close.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I growled.

His lips tilted into a malicious smirk. “How was Barlow’s cock by the way, genuinely curious?”

“Why? Thinking about taking him for a test drive?” I spat.

Foster’s arrogant smirk slipped, contorting into a scowl. His hand tightened around my throat, forcing an unattractive wheeze from my windpipe. Heat radiated off his body, his blue eyes searing into my green ones. I latched onto his wrist, attempting to loosen his grip, but it was pointless.

Strands of his blonde hair slipped free of the hood he wore. This was probably the most deranged I’d ever seen him. He looked like a fucking serial killer.

A whimper escaped me as I fought for oxygen. Dark spots danced around the edge of my vision as I faded out of consciousness.

“What is this about?” I rasped, rubbing the ache in my neck.

He sneered down at me, pure disgust written into his features. “For making me think you were anything other than a slut.” He placed his hands against the tree on either side of me, leaning in so close that our breaths mingled together.

Hurt registered in my body, slicing through my chest. Things between us had been so much better than before. He helped me when I needed him, wasn’t constantly degrading me or calling me names. I thought we’d found a common ground, but evidently not. However, this would make exacting my revenge against him that much easier now.

“I didn’t make you believe anything.”

He pressed into me further, the bulge in his pants resting against my stomach. My breath hitched as heat radiated through me.

As if sensing it, his mouth curved into a cocky grin. This was a side of Foster I wasn’t used to. He’d always been a dick, but he never cared to use sex or lust as a tactic.

“I bet you’re wet right now, aren’t you, little demon?”

I scoffed, squirming against him. That only backfired though, because it was causing him to rub up against me which only got me hotter. “Little Demon?” I mocked. “How unoriginal.”

“It’s fitting, don’t you think? I mean, you are supposed to be dead and all.”

“Get the fuck off me, Foster. I’m tired of your shit.”

He dropped his nose into the crook of my neck, electricity shooting toward my lower abdomen. He inhaled deeply, his arms shaking where they were positioned around me. My knees weakened, and I silently cursed my traitorous body.

“You don’t really mean that though, do you?” His lips feathered against the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “You want my cock just like the little whore you are.”

I managed to free my arm from in between us and sent a fist flying toward his ribs. Anger surged through my body. Who the fuck did he think he was? He grunted in response and took a step back, his eyes darkened with annoyance.

“I hate you,” I seethed.

“The feeling is very much mutual, bitch.”

I shoved against him again, trying to put more distance between us. My body might have been attracted to the asshole standing before me, but I wouldn’t let him talk to me like I was nothing but a piece of meat.

He waterboarded me, stood by and watched while his friends assaulted me, choked me, called me every name in the book, tortured me, burned me in the face with a cigarette, knocked me out, andkilledme. The cold expression on his face when he shoved me from the cliff was burned inside my memory. It haunted my nightmares and reminded me that Foster Henderson was nothing but a ruthless monster.

I wanted him to suffer just like I had. He deserved just a fraction of the pain he put me through. A wicked thought crossed my mind and I had to fight the smile that threatened to split my face in two. With only inches between us I reached out, placing my hands against his chest. The shock of my touch registered in his eyes immediately, a glaze glistening over his dilated pupils.

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