Page 72 of Innocent Intentions

“Ugh! Fuck you, you psychopath!”

I shove both hands against his chest, but it’s pointless. He doesn’t even stumble.

But his grip on me tightens.

“Not yet, spitfire,” he murmurs, voice thick with conviction. “Soon.”

I do the only thing I know will set him off.

I spit in his face.

The moment it lands, everything shifts.

One hand snaps to my throat. His huge palm nearly encircles my entire neck. His grip is firm, unyielding. It’s not painful, not yet. It’s a warning, a declaration, a display of control. A reminder that he can do whatever he wants to me.

You’re even wetter than before.

His other hand wipes the saliva off his cheek, slowly and deliberately.

When his eyes lift back to mine, they’re black with rage.

He’s so close, our noses nearly brushing, his breath warm against my lips.

Even now, even with his fingers wrapped around my throat, even when he could cut off my air or snap my neck in an instant, I’m not afraid.

Maybe I should be.

But no matter how furious he gets, I don’t think Matty would ever hurt me.

At least not outside of the bedroom. You’d love that.

His lips part. His unhinged expression exposes the level insanity I’ve driven to. Then...

RING!

The sound shatters the moment.

His jaw clenches, muscles tight as steel. He doesn’t release my throat immediately. His hand stays there for a second longer, like he wants me to feel his power as long as possible. Then, with one final squeeze, he lets me go.

I stumble back, breathless.

His free hand fishes his phone from his pocket. He checks the caller ID, mutters a curse, then locks eyes with me again.

“Get out of here.” His voice is gritted, dangerous.

I don’t move.

His gaze darkens.

“Know that this behavior will not go unpunished.”

A shiver runs through me.

“I have to take this call,” he continues, his expression murderous. “But we’ll finish this later.”

There’s a promise in his tone.

I storm out, his words ringing in my ears.

---