Page 10 of Slash Me Savagely

He ignored me, his fingers tracing a path down my neck, over my collarbone, and down to my breast. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. I wanted to push him away, to scream at him to leave me alone. But my body had other ideas.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a feather-light kiss. I could taste the coffee on his breath, bitter and strong. And I hated myself for wanting more.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Don't do this."

But he didn't listen. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine, and I felt myself melting into him, my body responding to his touch despite my best efforts to resist.

And as he lowered me onto the bed, his body pressing against mine, I knew that I was lost. That I would never be able to escape him. That he would always own me, body and soul.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, voice shaking with anger and fear.

He looked at me, and I hated how good he looked, blond hair falling casually into his face, like this was just another morning. Like he hadn't torn my world apart.

"You raped me," I spat, the words tasting like acid on my tongue.

"You wanted it, Gemma. Your body begs for me again."

"You're crazy," I started, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I never would have betrayed Rob. I never would have?—"

Suddenly, his fingers coiled around my throat. His grip was firm, not crushing, but a promise of power. "You will not speak his name in my presence," he said, voice low and dangerous. "You're mine,printessa."

Fear caused my heart to skip, a primal response to the predator before me. I could see it in his eyes, the possessiveness, the obsession. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating.

"I've been watching you," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "I know he treats you like an afterthought, like something he forgot about. You don't deserve that."

"And you'll treat me better?" I asked, the words barely a whisper.

"Like a princess," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "My princess."

His lips found my throat, a soft, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes, the room spinning around me. This was wrong. This was all wrong. But my body betrayed me, leaning into his touch, craving more.

His mouth moved lower, kissing and biting, marking my skin as if it were his territory. I gasped as his teeth grazed my collarbone, a sharp, sudden pain that sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through me. I hated how my body responded to him, how it craved his touch despite the fear and anger that boiled within me.

He shifted, his body pressing against mine, and I could feel the hard length of him against my thigh. His fingers found my throat again, coiling around it like a snake, gripping slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me of his power, of the control he held over me.

"Matthew," I whispered, his name a plea and a curse on my lips.

He looked at me, his eyes dark and hungry. "Tell me you want this, Gemma," he said, his voice a low growl. "Tell me you want me."

I hesitated, the words stuck in my throat. I didn't want to want him. I didn't want to give him this power over me.

"I... I want you," I whispered, the words torn from me like a secret.

A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face. He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was both gentle and brutal. I could taste the coffee on his breath, the faint hint of tobacco that clung to him like a second skin. And I could taste something else, something dark and dangerous, a hunger that matched my own.

He entered me then, a sudden, brutal thrust that stole my breath away. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders, clinging to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world that was spinning out of control.

His fingers tightened around my throat, gripping slightly, a reminder of his power, of his control. I could feel the panic rising, the fear that he would go too far, that he would take too much. But even as the fear gripped me, I could feel the pleasure building, a dark, twisted thing that coiled in the pit of my stomach, threatening to consume me.

He moved faster, his body slamming into mine, each thrust a claim, a possession. I could feel myself spiraling, falling into the darkness, into the pleasure that was too much, too intense. And as I fell, I heard his voice, a low, guttural growl in my ear.

"You're mine, Gemma. Mine."

The room filled with the sound of our bodies meeting, a raw, primal rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart. Each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through me, building and building until I was teetering on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall into the abyss.

"Matthew," I gasped, his name a plea, a curse, a prayer. His fingers tightened around my throat, his grip a leash that kept me tethered to him, to this moment.

"Come,printessa," he growled, his voice a low rumble in my ear. "Come for me. Show me you belong to me."

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