Page 24 of Ravaged
He breathed deeply, but he didn’t move.
“Your little one,” I said, withholding the cringe. Those words made me feel vulnerable and small, and I hated how much I liked hearing them.
“My little one,” he repeated.
“Let me be yours,” I breathed.
After a moment, his steady gaze transformed into an icy glare. “You’re funny,” he said. “You think I’ll fall for that?”
“Fall for what?” I asked, playing dumb. Damn it. He had fooled me into thinking he was easy back at the Dahlia District. I’d have to try something else. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” I arched my back. “Go ahead.” I let the towel drop, exposing my naked body. “Fuck me.”
His eyes searched me, and his cock twitched. My mouth watered, remembering how he bit into my flesh, but he crossed his arms and knocked me out of the trance.
“I want nothing to do with you,” he said.
My throat went dry. He couldn’t cut me off like that. Not yet. Not when I was so close.
“You’re lying,” I said.
“You’re full of yourself.”
I looked down at his growing bulge. “I’m not the one with an erection.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Any tits and ass would do the same thing.”
I slapped him. Fast. Hard enough that his face turned. He closed his eyes slowly, then opened them, turning his jaw back to me.
He had the nerve to act like he was better than me. Couldn’t even pretend to be into me. Like he had only fucked me in order to trick me out of the Dahlia District. Like I was nothing but a whore to him.
And maybe that was true.
Maybe that was exactly what he had done. A man like him wouldn’t settle for a woman like me. I was simply another debt to collect, a way to keep Dad alive.
But if that was so, if that was our truth, I wasn’t going to let him degrade me like that. Even if it meant being punished.
Because being hated was better than being nothing.
“You are a brave little one,” he said slowly, punching out each word.
“I know you wanted me,” I sneered. “Maybe not now,” I shivered, losing my strength. But I straightened. I had to do this. “But you did. I saw it in your eyes.”
“How can I get it through your head?” he bit back, leaning against the wall. “You’re not special. You’re a prisoner. You’re nothing to me.”
He was lying. Again. My gut wrenched. I knew he felt more than that. There was a spark of kindness inside of him. A hint of empathy for me. His words from the first night echoed through my mind.You should get out of here, he had said,Before it’s too late. He had tried to warn me. He knew what was coming.
I spit in his face, the saliva hitting his cheek. A violent reaction, a punishment, was better than the alternative. If I could move a man like Ethan Adler, maybe I wouldn’t be stuck in the cage forever.
He bared his teeth.
A cold sweat broke over my neck and arms. I bit my lip. Tucked hair behind my ear.Shit. What had I done?
“You want to play like that, huh?” he asked. He stepped forward, taking my arms in his hands, his fingernails digging into my skin. “We can play that way.”
He ripped me forward, shoving me against the wall, my cheek flat on the window’s wooden slats. Flashes of the trees in the backyard, the sun beginning to creep through the branches. It was past dawn. He pulled my wrists into his hand in a tight grip, pulling them up so high that I was on my toes. Then he smacked my ass, firm and hard, making me skip forward.
“Ouch!” I cried.
He smacked me again, and again, switching cheeks. My face burned. Why had I done that? Why was I such an idiot? A daring little idiot, but still, an idiot. My breathing hitched and he slapped my ass again, this time squeezing the flesh. A surge of electricity ran through me. Hedidwant me. I knew it.
