I jump off the stool and run.
TWENTY-FIVE
SLOANE
Declan catches me before I’ve gone twenty feet.
He tackles me from behind. We crash to the living room carpet. He rolls on top of me.
Then he kisses me, hard and hungrily, his mouth fused to mine.
The fear I feel is overpowering. He’s only kissing me, not killing me, but it feels like I’m fighting for my very life.
It feels like I’m drowning.
I gasp, twisting my head away and squirming underneath him. “Get off me!”
“You’re forgetting who’s in charge here,” he growls, pulling my head back so my throat is exposed. He bites my neck, chuckling when I scream in frustration.
“You said I was in charge!”
“I lied. Submit, captive.”
“Go to hell!”
“Submit.”
“No! Stop saying that!”
My bound arms are pinned between our bodies. He reaches down, grasps the short chain that links the handcuffs, and yanks my arms over my head. Then he gives me all his weight, flattening me.
This time when he kisses me, I taste victory on his lips.
Victory and something darker.
He breaks away, panting. “Don’t run away from me. You’re braver than that.”
I’m not, though. I always thought I was tough, but he’s proven I’m nothing more than a big fat coward. I’m so scared he’ll see more than I want him to see that I can’t even look at him.
Into my ear, he says, “Cat’s already out of the bag. You can’t hide from me anymore.”
“I take it all back! I was lying!”
That infuriates him.
With a snarl that’s more than a little scary, he makes me look at him, his hand gripped around my jaw. “Bollocks. You were telling the truth, maybe for the first fucking time. Weren’t you?”
When I don’t respond, he insists,“Weren’t you?”
Shaking all over, I close my eyes and whisper, “Stop. Please. This was a mistake.”
“No, lass, it wasn’t. I’m betting this is the first real thing either of us has had.”
He takes my mouth again. When I try to break away, he doesn’t let me. He doesn’t let me move my arms, or end the kiss, or wriggle out from underneath him. He doesn’t try to command me this time, either, he simplyforcesme to submit.
I fight him, but he’s too strong. Or I’m too weak. Either way, in a few moments, all the fight is drained out of me. I lie limply underneath him, sucking in short, hard breaths through my nose as I’m washed over a cliff and out to sea.
He reaches down and rips open his zipper. His hard cock springs out from his jeans. He fists it in his hand, rubbing it back and forth through my wetness.