Page 27 of Fearless

Iwillbe the bad guy. Sometimes that’s the kinder thing to do.

“Trust me sweetheart, I’m doing you a favor.”

She glares up at me. “If that’s really what you think, then you’re more fucked in the head than I thought, you sick, perverted—”

I grab her jaw and throat in a hand and push her head against the wall, baring my teeth at her.

“Well you don’t have all the facts, do you? So you need to listen. You need to follow my rules. And you need to believe me when I say you do not want to fuck with my brother.”

Her throat moves under my hand as she swallows. “Then tell me what you want from me.”

It’s not even a question. She says it like she resents every damn word coming out of her mouth.

“I want you to go to the bathroom, fix yourself up, and have something to eat.”

She frowns up at me, as if she can’t believe the words that are coming out of my mouth.

I guess that list isn’t exclusive. There’s a lot more I want, but those three things will do for now.

“Fine. Where’s the fucking bathroom?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

MEISIE

My sex dungeon is located in the basement of a mansion. As Cillian leads me through the house to my first stop—the bathroom—I catch a glimpse of a massive lawn ending at a thick cluster of trees. It could be a forest, for all I know.

I’m in the middle of nowhere.

He keeps a hand on my elbow, steering me where he wants me to go. We’re on the ground floor of the mansion, near the back of the house. I’m guessing these are the servants’ corridors, because there is no art on the walls, no fancy furnishings.

He opens a door and shoves me inside, slamming it closed behind me without a word.

I’m in a small bathroom. There’s barely enough space to move around between the sink, toilet, and shower cubicle.

No windows here—just a vent emitting a loud hum as if there’s an air-conditioner built in behind it.

Too small for me to climb through.

Yes, I’m still going to get the hell out of here.

Yes, I should probably take the big bad man’s threats seriously.

But nothing’s going to keep me from trying to get out of here. I’ve had precious little time to piece any of this together, but I’m definite this isn’t just some sexual deviant’s hideout I’ve somehow landed myself in.

If that had been the case, he’d already have shoved that cock of his into me. No threats. No rules.

There’s a piece of clothing on the toilet seat. It unfolds into a man’s dress shirt. And what, this is supposed to be my pajamas?

It smells like fabric softener, and just a hint of cologne.

I turn on the shower and reluctantly undress after scanning the entire room with a scowl. I don’t know what would be the point, but I wouldn’t put it past him to have installed a camera inside here.

I grab a bar of soap and quickly wash.

What the hell was all of that crap about his brother? That he’s the one I should be scared of?

Not that I’m scared of Cillian.

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