Page 89 of Heathens

I hate that part of me right now.

“That’s it?” He asks.

“What do you want me to say, Dominic?” I put my knife and fork down onto my nearly empty plate. “Do you want me to fight you? You’re a hundred times stronger than me, and you’ve got my feet tied to the bedposts.”

I have to cut myself off before the anger seeps back into my voice. He needs to think I’m giving in, that I’m defeated at the very least.

His eyes fall, his entire body slumping like he’s trying to get me to feel sorry for him. We’re each playing the other, but he doesn’t have anything on me.

I clear my throat and hang my head in return.

“I’m sorry.”

He picks up the fork, stabbing one of the last pieces of steak and bringing it to my mouth. With his other hand, he tips my chin upward, forcing my eyes to meet his.

“Open.”

My lips part and I let him feed me, knowing I don’t have a choice.

“You’re so beautiful, Sofie.”

I want to scoff, but I hold it back as he continues to feed me what remains of dinner. His eyes are warm, but lonely. Pity creeps into my chest and as hard as I try, I can’t push it away.

Once the plate is cleared, he sets it aside and sighs, glancing back over at me.

“I’m going to draw you a bath, but you have to promise not to act up.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ll play along for now. Tonight, I’m getting the fuck out of here.

He carefully unties my legs and I try to memorize the knot. If I can convince him to leave my hands untied tonight, that only leaves a couple of major roadblocks. There are deep bruises on my wrists from where I’ve struggled against my ropes, and I might just be able to tug at his heartstrings. Before I have time to check the state of my ankles, he scoops me up and carries me to the bathroom, placing me right on top of the counter. The lights are dim and the marble is freezing. I wince at the cold, and in an instant Dominic cups my face in his hands.

“Are you okay?”

I say nothing. I don’t want this man’s care or his pity.

His eyes search mine, and he smiles.

“You’ll understand one day.”

Soft lips press against my forehead, and I struggle to stay composed. I can’t take this constant personality whiplash. He’s so sweet one minute, but then there’s a 50/50 chance the second I resist or fight back he’ll catch me by the throat. I can’t predict him.

Before he can fully turn away, I snatch his wrist and pull him back. I need to soften him up a little more, make him weak like I did back in the feeding room. A tiny part of me feels guilty for exploiting his… kindness? Obsession? There’s clearly something wrong with him, but even now I’m the one who still wants to fuck him, so there must be something wrong with me, as well.

He looks a little dazed. Exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes are more prominent now than ever before, making the blue of his iris even brighter. I wet my lips slowly, and his eyes follow my sultry tongue with laser-like precision. A small fire erupts in the pit of my stomach, completely unbidden, and that tingling sensation rushes all the way down to my toes.

“Kiss me,” I whisper. For a second he hesitates, but I pull him closer. “Please.”

It’s sweet, like a quiet apology, and it’s all that it takes. He sighs softly as I run my fingers down his arms and slide them beneath his sweater, feeling his muscles tighten as I brush over them. His skin is cool and smooth, but I don’t waste any time, dragging my fingernails through the small tuft of hair that leads right to his cock. He presses into me, going in for a kiss, and that’s when I let him take control. My legs twist around his waist and I roll my hips, aching for more friction.

Dominic tears his mouth away from mine and ghosts his lips down my neck, nipping at me with his fangs. I groan and part my legs for him as his knuckles brush against me.

“You’re wet,” he groans. “So quickly.”

My head falls back as he teases me, playfully dancing around my newly swollen clit with deliberate feather-light strokes. A deep ache thrums in my belly as the fire inside me burns more violent by the second.

“Whose fault is that?”

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