Page 16 of Fearless

I’m going to break you apart. Again and again.

My consciousness is slipping away. I try to hold on, but it’s like trapping steam.

“Please,” I hear someone say. When he laughs, I realize it was me begging.

“Don’t bother.” Cillian appears in my view, and the mattress sinks down on either side of me as he climbs onto the bed and straddles me.

There’s sudden friction down my arms. A numbing cold spreads over my breasts.

He’s pulled my dress down to my belly button, baring my chest to the cool air. He studies me, but how a hunter studies a malfunctioning rifle that just cost him a kill shot.

I’m dimly aware that my fingers are fumbling around in my purse.

Cell phone.

Call for help.

Tracker.

She knows where I am.

Help—

Cillian whips the purse from my hand with a flick of his fingers. Lipstick and credit cards scatter on the bed. He twists aside and opens the nightstand drawer, then lifts a condom packet into the air.

He drawls, “Open wide for Daddy,” in his thick accent as he brings it to my mouth.

My lips part without instruction from my brain.

My heart should be pounding, but I can barely feel it in my chest. What I do feel is Cillian’s heavy body crushing mine and, when he leans forward to shove the condom packet between my lips, his hard-on pressing against my inner thigh.

Tears leak from my eyes. Somehow, I still have feeling in my face. My cheeks, my throat. That’s how I know his hand is around my neck, slowly tightening.

Cold jade eyes settle on me. A rush floods me, and I feel like I did step off into the night out there.

Falling.

Drowning.

In those pond-green eyes.

There’s something in his hand. Pink. Rectangular. Glittery.

My phone.

He slaps my cheek, hard, a wicked grin putting a cruel light in his eyes.

“Smile pretty for me, princess.”

CHAPTER FIVE

CILLIAN

Iplonk my arse down on the leather cuddle chair that sits in the far corner of the room and undo the top three buttons of my shirt.

I’m sweating like a rapist.

Ha.

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