Page 76 of XV (Fifteen) (War of Roses 1)

You’ll never know him.

Whoever she was, Mischa cared enough about her to save these delicate items of clothing. That act alone contrasts with everything there is to hate about him. It brought up an even more dangerous emotion: curiosity.

And, deep down, I know I’ve already learned far too much about my new monster.

I know what he feels like aroused.

I’ve tasted his rage.

As for his revenge…

It’s dark when heavy footsteps approach the newly repaired door and give me an inkling of what lies in store for me. Unsteadiness. Each footfall scrapes the floor, slow and reluctant. The figure they belong to casts a wide enough shadow to blot out all light emanating from the hall. I’m bathed in darkness for so long that my eyes begin to adjust as the knob finally turns, revealing the creature lurking over the threshold.

Any hesitation he might have felt is left at the door. He strides boldly into the bedroom, slamming the door in his wake. The lock clicks and I watch him approach from the bed.

My stomach lurches as I spot something dangling from his right hand. Long. Thin…

Before I can name it, his knee extends, nudging me onto my side. My stomach. With me blinded, he mounts me from behind, ruthlessly using his weight to pin me in place. One of his hands cinches mine, wrapping something around my wrist. Rope? It bites into my flesh as he secures the limb beyond my head. To the bed frame? I tug it only to meet resistance.

With my thoughts still spinning, he does the same to the other.

And only now do I feel something: fear.

At his mercy, there is no escape.

I tense in anticipation as his hand grazes the back of my thigh and draws the hem of my dress up. Cold air kisses the flesh as if in warning:Brace yourself.He feels between my legs next, sliding what I suspect is the pad of a thumb along my entrance. Far too softly, so unlike his usual roughness. As if to spite me, he lingers there, testing me, and I can almost picture the thought circling his mind: hard or slow?

My punishment comes without delay. He choosesboth. Every inch of his length slams inside me with no preamble. Stretching. Taking. Claiming.

Facedown against the sheets, I smother my moan into the silk.

Breathe, Ellen.After four choked gasps, I realize it’s impossible. From this angle, he’s deeper than he’s ever been. Harder. Thicker.Harsher.The second thrust throws me forward, straining my binds and ramming the top of my skull against the headboard. My eyes shut as another gasp escapes my lips to sink into the sheets. Another. Another.

On the fifth brutal slam of his hips, real panic starts to gnaw away at the numbness. I can handle his hate. Or his lust. Notthis.

Not silence.

He isn’t frenzied, grunting with each thrust. He’s slow. Careful. Precise. Each strike brutalizes a particular spot deep inside me that aches at the stimulation. It throbs. Heats. Ignites. The building pressure spreads through my belly, swiftly gathering in intensity until I’m moaning with every pass of his hips.

Robert fucked me only for his pleasure, taking what he wanted. Nevergivingthis deliberate, callous…feeling.

I thrash, shaking my head, and buck against him desperate to arouse his rage.

Fuck me.

Hate me.

Knowing damn well how to attack, hetouchesme, sliding his fingers along the ridge of my entrance, above where we’re joined. Too close. Too hard. Not hard enough.

Then he groans, smothering the sound against my ear. Words, I think. My brain struggles to interpret them.

“Bea..tiful.Fuck, you’re beautiful—” Sharp teeth scrape the back of my throat and then bite down hard, grinding the flesh between them.Take it.

There is no reprieve. He rocks his hips, grinding the blunted tip of his cock against my abused walls. My eyelids flutter as my nails clutch at the air for stability.

I can taste his madness on my tongue. It grows more potent with every unsteady lurch of the bed and jolt through my core. Bit by bit, he loses that careful rhythm and just…punishes.

Slick flesh and sinful heat churn my thoughts into a senseless mass. Then, all at once, the harsh friction reaches a boiling point and every nerve short-circuits. Pleasure is a neutron bomb going off inside my skin. Muscles clench and tense, pulling him deep, deep, deep. Right when he begins to pulse inside me…

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