Page 89 of The Freedom in Captivity

“But you fuckin’ did.” He drops my face, my neck, and with both arms, winds my waist, locking me to his chest. No amount of fighting will free me now. Alcohol breath blows over my face, but I realize, with it, he’s being more open than ever. “You did when you batted your fuckin’ eyelashes at me on the bench that day.”

“You said so yourself, that was so many years ago. I’m not accountable for my actions.”

He barks out a single laugh. “God, how was I so stupid back then not to see it? You evensoundlike a damn princess. You talk so refined, even then.” His laughter fades into a single huff before he goes on, “You invited me in here the moment you chosethisfamily to target. Until you ended up inmychains.” He undoes one hand around my neck to trace my collarbone to the space between my breasts.

My breath stalls and I watch and wait for his next move. His fingers dip beneath my bra and find my nipples, pointed and betraying my every logical desire—to get away from him. For my own safety, whatever he’s trying to offer me, I can’t take. And for his safety, he needs to get away from here.

He pinches the pointed nub, causing my teeth to press into my bottom lip, hiding my desire from him and those that could hear us beyond the door.

“This skin.” He emphasizes his words with another pinch. “Your blood, so fucking lovely.My ownpetit soleil,” little sun, “orbiting all for me. When you were in my chains, I know how much you secretly enjoyed it.” He leans forward and his next and final statement is whispered in my ear. “You like the loss of control.”

His lips trail my shoulder as his hand slides away from my breast. The relief doesn’t last for long because then he’s pulling my shirt over my head, unsnapping my bra, and taking both breasts, one in each hand, thumb and forefinger playing with my nipples respectively.

“Fuck.” My head falls back. “Flynn, we shouldn’t—”

“No,” he chuckles darkly against my skin, “we shouldn’t. Wereallyfuckin’ shouldn’t but you forget, you’re my personal sun. You burn away sensibility, leaving only heat and destruction in your path. You ended up in my basement, opened your pretty little mouth, and I fell right back to where I was in high school.”

My mind is still catching up, trying to decipher his latest statement when he stands, flips me over on my back, and crouches over me in a flash quicker than a drunk person should be able to. His hands by my head press into the mattress, holding him up, his knees on either side of my hips. When he rocks into me, his erection becomes obvious through his jeans.

“You took and took and fuckingtook, Rozelyn. And now it’s my turn.”

It might be his devious grin, or his ominous words, or the fact that he gets off the bed and unsnaps his jeans, but finally, meaning registers.

And I only have one word as a response:No.

But it doesn’t come out. My numb lips don’t do anything but form the word without making the sound to accompany it. Maybe because I don’t want to deny him but also…I don’t know what I want.

With both hands, he grabs hold of the leggings the Corsettis have given me and pulls them off me. With that movement though, I crab walk away from him, making it only a foot before he’s yanking me back into position and climbing atop me again.

“Running away?” He tilts his head, grinning down with an expression partially menacing and partially sexy. “Thought you liked this, Rozelyn. You enjoy it rough. You enjoy pretending to fight. You certainly weren’t complaining when you climbed in my bed and I sliced up your pussy.”

I do, but not like this. Not while he’s drunk and obviously erratic. Making decisions that’ll cost him his life. Coming in here, luring me in with a false sense of security with his recollection of his feelings for me all to get me on my back.

This is revenge.

“No, Flynn, stop. You need to go.”

With my next kick, he grabs my ankle and lowers it to the side, staring down with remorseless, meaningful eyes as a finger swipes between my folds and my betraying body reacts with a low moan.

“There she is. Don’t be too loud now.”

Ignoring him, I do make noise. With a grunt, I kick my other leg out, which he captures too, with the hand he was petting me with.

“You’re out of hands.” I smirk. “Gotta try better than that.”

He releases both of my legs to glide his hands up the insides of my thighs, pausing right at my core. His fingers lightly brush my folds, teasing his next move.

“And if you really wanted me gone, you’d yell. One loud shout, and he’ll come running. I’ll get in trouble for being here.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m not. Because you’ll get in trouble.” A partial lie because he’s right. I don’tnotwant this…and one loud shout would get him out of here.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, and with his eyes locked to mine, his thumbs stroke me, one on either side of my clit. A low moan works at my throat and I bite down on my lip as he passes over my swollen clit.

“Fuck.”

“Fuck is right. You’re so wet for someone not wanting this.”

“I can run,” I taunt. “One kick to your face and I’ll be across the room instantly.”

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