Page 101 of Only for Him
She doesn’t wait for me. She throws herself at my midsection, hoping to catch me off balance, but this time I’m ready. I let her impact drive us both into the wall, pin her there with my hips and hands, her arms flailing until I trap them above her head.
She thrashes, tries to knee me again, but I block it with my thigh. I grab a fistful of her hair, and wrench her head back.
There she is.
My little viper.
“That was a neat trick back there,” I tell her. “But it’ll only work once.”
“Roman,” she breathes, and my name drips with a heady mix of fear and defiance. “Let me go.”
“No,” I say, and mean it. I lean in, my nose at her ear, and whisper, “You want this.”
Even in the dark, I see everything. The defiant tilt of her head. The rise and fall of her chest.
I push her to the ground. Before dropping to join her, I click the lights back on so I can admire her fully: Splayed out on the ground in that dress and waiting for me to pounce, brown eyes wide and helplessly begging.
My heart pounds.
My blood sings.
I unsheathe my knife.
The glint of the blade catches in her eyes. She freezes, but not from fear.
I kneel down slowly, straddling her creamy thighs. I’m sure she can feel how hard I am for her.
The power of finally having her where I want her sends a thrill down my spine. I slip the blade under her dress.
“Oh,” she whimpers, voice hoarse but high. In this moment, I know: I’ve taken her on a path from which there is no return. I’ll reveal her completely.
God, she’s beautiful like this—caught between instincts. Her fear and her hunger. Her fight and her want.
I press my forearm across her throat. Not hard, just enough to remind her. To make her look up at me and know thatI see her.
“You can’t escape me,” I whisper. “You already gave in. Back in that locker, when you came all over my fingers.”
She trembles, and I feel it in every muscle pressed against her.
“When you sucked that gun like you wanted it to explode down your throat.”
The knife trembles in my hand, poised to cut through her, unveiling the beautiful monster hidden beneath.
“You don’t get to pretend anymore. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you won’t lie to me.”
I trace the flat of the knife along her inner thigh, watching her shiver. She tries to twist away. I tighten my grip.
“Youwantthis,” I say. “You want to know how deep it goes. How far I’ll take you.”
She slackens, panting, and I use the moment to shift my grip. One hand on her throat, thumb pressing into the soft hollow where her pulse thrashes like a trapped animal.
The other finds the top of that pretty dress and slides the knife downward.
The fabric tears with a sound like gunfire, and comes apart in one beautiful motion.
She’s naked beneath, nipples peaked and begging for attention. Soft, curly hair barely concealing her cunt. I want to take each strand in my teeth and tug, hear her scream.
Soon enough, I will.
