Page 81 of Possession

“I came here to tell your fucking husband he’d better not disrespect my father again. But seeing as he’s not here, I’m going to take this opportunity to sample what should’ve been mine to play with had Damian not bit it. And even then, you should’ve been mine, bitch. I was next in line, but Torres has his nose so far up my uncle’s ass, I had no chance.”

“Please,” I beg. Between the pain and fear, tears prick my eyes. “Don’t do this. There are cameras. They’re everywhere. If you hurt me, they’ll know. Boz will know.”

“Boz can’t do shit to me,” he bites as anger radiates through his voice. “And I know about the cameras, Landyn. I know everything, and no one will stop me. You think the guards aren’t used to this?”

No.

My brain and every reflex in my body shifts to pure self-preservation. He’s so close, his dark, malevolent eyes bore into mine as instinct takes over.

I spit in his face.

Twist my body in his hold.

And scream.

I scream bloody murder.

I don’t think he’s going to actually murder me, but if my worst nightmares come true, I might wish for death.

And I’m not going down without a fight.

“Bitch!” His growl echoes off the dark-paneled walls as his hold on me tightens and twists even harder.

And I thought the pain was bad before.

My scream for help turns to one that expresses sheer agony. I’m twisted, my back to his front, when his other hand wraps around my neck and suppresses my cry to a desperate gag for air.

“Fight me, bitch. The harder you fight, the harder I’ll get off. You have no clue how much I want this.”

I gasp when he releases my neck and drags a hand down my chest, his nails score my skin on the way to my dress.

Cotton rips as his teeth bite into my earlobe. My dress hangs open from the front, and my bra is askew.

It’s all I can do to jab him with my elbow, but it doesn’t do anything. He shifts enough that I manage to reach over my head to claw at his face. The moment I find a grip and catch skin, he shoves me to the side.

I crash into the side of a chair.

All oxygen leaves my body in a whoosh when the wood frame connects with my ribs.

I grasp at the torn material of my dress as I roll to the side. On my hands and knees, I try to put the chair between us, but when I look back, he’s standing over me.

He’s too big. Too strong. I’ll never get away. All I can do is roll into myself…

And pray.

“Come here,” he grits at the moment I scream out in pain again from my head being yanked back. My hair is pulled at the roots, his face is close to mine when he twists me around to spit in my face. “I was so fucking pissed when Alamandos gave you to him. I fucking hate Boz. I’ll make sure he gets what’s coming to him right after you do.”

He flips me to my back and wedges a knee between my legs.

“Please,” I beg through ravaged tears. “I’ll talk to Boz. What do you want? Just, please, stop.”

“Landyn!” My name bellows from the other side of the door followed by a bang that has to be a fist. So much banging. “What’s happening? Open the fucking door!”

Rocco.

I can’t string coherent words together, but I scream at the top of my lungs, crying out. I can’t form words through pain and fear.

“Landyn?!” Rocco calls again.

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