Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
I push the sharp point of the icepick a little harder, letting it pierce the fabric of his shirt. “Give me the passport you used to smuggle me out of South Africa.”
His lips lift in one corner. “When you have it, what are you going to do with it?”
“I’m going to leave,” I say through clenched teeth. “You’re going to give me money and a car, and you’re going to let me go.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Go where?”
“Where you’ll never find me.”
“A place like that doesn’t exist, little flower. I’ll turn the world upside down if I have to, and you’ll only end up right back here.”
It makes me feel like a hamster running in place in a wheel. So futile. “Give it to me!” I push harder, feeling the barrier of his strong chest against the weapon.
He looks down at me, his arms resting at his sides. “Go ahead. Stab me, Zoe. You’ll want to move the tip up a centimeter and a fraction to the left if you want to hit my heart.”
I do it. I follow his guidance and let the point rest against his heart. He’s killing me little by little, destroying what’s left of me. I can’t live like this anymore.
His cold, gray eyes mock me. “What are you waiting for?”
I put my weight behind the pick. I’m shaking so much it’s hard to keep the shaft steady. The point meets more resistance, hard muscle and scarred flesh. How many kisses have I planted on that flesh? How many times have I traced his imperfect skin to hear him exhale with a shudder? How many nights have I harbored hope in my chest, hope to escape, hope that he’ll return a drop of my feelings? Because if he doesn’t, I’m afraid I’ll lose my soul. My unrequited affection will slowly poison me. The bitterness of being forever unloved and eternally lonely will chip away at my heart until nothing but hard, polished hate is left. I hate him as much as I love him, but I hate myself more for loving him. It’s the worst suffering. Insupportable.
Tears pool in my eyes as I try to harm him. I have to do this. I have to save myself. I start crying when he doesn’t stop me as I push harder. A crimson drop flowers over the fabric of his shirt. It’s the color of life, of love. It’s the color of him. Beneath it all, he’s exactly what he said—just a man.
My fingers loosen around the shaft. Every bone in my body shakes. The icepick falls with a clatter on the floor. It’s a harsh sound, cruel and devastating. A sob tears from my chest.
Moving like lightning, he grabs my wrist. Even if my hand is empty now, his hold is like an iron shackle. The other hand finds purchase in my hair. He yanks my head back with force and crushes our mouths together. The kiss is as brutal as the threat I couldn’t carry out. He forces me onto my knees by my hair, following me down to the floor.
The sting on my scalp makes my eyes water as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. Stretching out over me, he pushes my shorts and underwear over my hips and grabs the root of his cock in his hand. I barely have time to take a breath before he impales me, thrusting so deep it hurts. I cry out, tears of defeat leaking from the corners of my eyes.
Is this what I’ve reduced myself to? A killer? I don’t want to become like him. More so, I can never harm him. It’s twisted, but I can control it as little as I can control my love. I care way too much.
Placing a palm over the bloodstain on his shirt, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
He lifts up on one arm and scans my face with his solemn, gray gaze. “I know.”
He spears his fingers through my hair, caressing my scalp and wiping away the hurt. Framing my face between his palms, he kisses my eyes and cheeks. He kisses my lips as he starts moving, setting a slow pace. I rock in his arms, letting his gentle strength soothe me. I fall deeper under his spell as his body calls and mine answers. I bow to his magic, gasping into his mouth as my back arches from the pleasure. It’s different than how we normally fuck. It’s desperate, yet tender. It’s a celebration of life. I could’ve lost him tonight. My threat of killing him was all bluffing, nothing but manipulation to let me go. I don’t want him dead. Yet his life is dangerous. I can lose him every day. To live this fear over and over, day after day, I’m not sure I can do it.