Page 17 of Absolution
He just laughs in response to my barbed threat. We both know I’d never actually do anything to hurt him, but he’s loving our dance on the edge of consent.
“It’s been too long since I tamed your sassy mouth,” he remarks. “Your punishments are adding up, naughty pet. You teased me in the park, you refused a direct order, and now you’re threatening violence against me. How shall I handle these infractions?”
“You won’thandleme at all,” I shoot back, reaching for the kettle.
It’s an empty gesture, but before my fingers brush the handle, he’s on me. Like a striking viper, he grabs me from behind. One arm is an iron band against my stomach, yanking me away from the potential weapon. His other big hand clamps over my nose and mouth, muffling my scream and my ability to draw breath.
I kick out at nothing as he lifts me off the floor and drags me out of the kitchen. Fear spikes through my system in a lightning strike, crackling and dancing from my core all the way to my fingers and toes. I surrender fully to our dark game, fighting him like a wild thing.
My nails sink into his restraining hand like claws, but with each passing second, it becomes more difficult to draw breath. My lungs begin to burn, and I jerk in his arms with erratic, desperate attempts to free myself. I’m consumed by primal survival responses, and I slip deeper into my thrilling, fear-drenched headspace.
Darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision as we enter the bedroom, and my struggles grow weaker. His low, cruel laugh winds around me like a subversive caress, so at odds with the violent way he’s holding me. Even though I’m thoroughlyrestrained and helpless, he’s careful not to harm me. I won’t so much as bruise from the careful cage of his iron grip.
Dane would never hurt me.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to put up one hell of a fight.
He wants me to crawl for him. He’ll have to earn that privilege.
I won’t surrender so easily.
7
ABIGAIL
Black spots dance at the edges of my vision, and my fingers soften on Dane’s forearm, no longer clawing at him as my consciousness wavers from lack of oxygen.
“Are you done already?” he taunts. “Such a fragile little dove. Shall I treat you more gently? I don’t want to break you.”
His hand drops from my nose and mouth, and I drag in a deep, burning breath.
“Fuck you,” I say on the exhale, voice hoarse.
The bedroom spins around me at the rush of oxygen back to my brain. I start to struggle again, but he easily wrestles me to the floor. A shriek tears from my throat when he grabs my wrists and pins them at the small of my back. I thrash, but I only succeed in stimulating my hard nipples against the plush carpet, even through the thin barrier of my dress.
The familiar feel of hemp rope encircling my wrists draws a sound of feral denial from my chest, and he hums in pure, masculine satisfaction. He makes quick work of binding me before grabbing my flailing ankles. He pulls my body taut into a stress position, tying my ankles to my wrists so that I can’t do more than wriggle and curse at him.
His long fingers encircle my nape, and he presses my cheek into the carpet so that my shouts become garbled. His other hand caresses my jawline with reverence that’s so at odds with the ruthless way he’s handling my body.
“Such a filthy mouth,” he remarks. “I thought you were a pure, polite Southern belle. I’ll have to teach you how to behave properly. You’ll learn some respect and humility.”
“Respect is earned,” I seethe.
He cocks his head, considering me. “Is that what all of this is about? You want to make me work for your submission?” His slow grin is cruelly beautiful. “You’re the one who will struggle and suffer. I get nothing but sadistic enjoyment out of degrading you, pet.”
“Stop calling me that,” I snap.
He traces the line of my cheekbone, lingering over my freckle. “Never.”
His touch withdraws from my cheek, and then my collar dangles from his elegant fingers, swaying in front of my trapped face in a mocking rhythm.
“You’ll have to earn your diamonds,” he taunts. “You’ll beg me for them before I’m finished with you.”
“You can lock that collar around my throat, but it won’t tame me,” I hiss.
My body burns for him, rage-tinged desire coursing through my veins like fire. My indignation isn’t fake—I will never meekly bend when he’s taunting me like this. But my surging emotions are as powerful as the whitecapped waves on a stormy sea, drowning me in primal chemicals as my body struggles to defy his cruel control.
With Dane, I don’t freeze; I fight back. I’m safe to use my claws because he will never truly hurt me in retaliation.
