Page 92 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
“Is that why you pushed me away?” I ask quietly.
He shifts slightly and threads his hand back between my legs. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
I pull at the tie holding my wrists together and groan.
He chuckles into my ear. “I’m not untying you. You touch me when I say you can touch me. Do you understand?”
My body hums at his words but my brain is fighting against them. “This is fucked up,” I whisper. “Youare fucked up.”
He lifts a finger to his lips and sucks it slowly. Then he returns it to my heat. “I’m not fucked up, Tess. I’mobsessed. There’s a difference.”
My back arches and my knees spread involuntarily.
“That’s my little brat.”
He parts my ass cheeks and feeds his cock between them. Then I gasp as he pulls me down hard.
He stills, letting my walls relax while panting heavy breaths in my ear. “Oh fuck, you feel so good Tess.”
My brain is reeling. I’ve never felt so helpless in all my life. I’ve never felt so afraid. I’ve neveryearnedfor someone this much.
Part of me wants to surrender to him, to this. Part of me wants to run far, far away. But, not only am I restrained, my body ismelting. All this man has to do is brush me with a finger and my skinburns.
He starts to move and my lids fall. His cock travels through my core, expanding me and filling me with his madness, and all the while he breathes harsh curses and sweet promises into my ear.
And I surrender.
Thesnapof a pocket knife makes my eyes pop open. Benito feeds a blade between my wrists and slices through the plastic ties, then he reaches behind us and cuts the ties around my ankles too. He helps me to my feet and pulls my skirt back down over my hips. He places thick hands on the dip of my waist and turns me around, then I look into his eyes one last time.
They’re deep and dark and almost impossible not to fall into. I make myself hold onto them while I wait for the blood to return to my hands and feet.
His thumb brushes across the dent in my wrist. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.
When sensations return to my fingers, my eyes fill with tears. “Is the door unlocked?” I whisper.
The smile falls from his face. “Yes, it is.”
One tear makes a track down my cheek and I wipe it away with the back of my hand. “Goodbye Benito.”
I turn around and run for the door. My fingers shake as I curl them around the handle, but he was telling the truth—it’s open. I have to blink as I step into a brightly lit corridor. I look left and right and see an elevator a few yards down. I run to it and press the button repeatedly until the doors open with a ping. I step inside the empty cavity and search for more buttons. They look vaguely familiar. I search for one that looks like it might be the ground floor and press it. Then Iface the doors, my shoulders heaving as I hyperventilate.
The corridor I’ve left behind is empty. If Benito had planned to stop me, he could have done so easily, but he hasn’t. Still, my lungs empty with bitter relief when the doors slide closed and the elevator starts to rise.
I squeeze myself through the doors, not waiting for them to open fully, and run into a sleek black lobby. I’m struck by the realization I know where I am.Arena. I recognize this lobby from when I came here with Paige. I run towards the main exit and my heart sinks as two suited and probably armed men step out of the shadows. One lifts a radio and mutters something into it. I don’t slow down—I need to get through those doors. As I pass, I hear a familiar voice come through the radio.Let her go.
I stop mid-stride and glance at the man. He punches a button on the wall behind him and the doors hiss apart.
I pause outside but only for a second, to drag in a lungful of clean air, then I look up and down the street. Predictably, there’s a couple of black cars parked up. I run to the nearest and wait for the window to wind down.
“You drive for the Di Santos?” I ask, hurriedly.
“I do, Miss Castellano.”
I do a double take; I don’t recall seeing this man before, but he knows who I am.
“Where can I take you, Miss?”
My heart thumps. “Home,” I whisper. “I want to go home.”
