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The blade presses in—not cutting, but threatening again.

“Beg for me to break you.”

I feel her pulse rabbit-fast beneath my hand. See the war behind her eyes.

She wants to deny me.

Wants to hold on to that last shred of control.

But it’s slipping.

Chapter 29

Seanna

No.No.No.

I repeat the word like a shield, like it’ll hold the line as Rule presses in, his blade dragging slow and deliberate over my skin. But my body—the traitorous bitch—is already arching toward the threat.

His voice snakes through me, low and level.Scream for me. Beg for me to break you.

I should spit in his face. Snarl something violent and sharp. Fight until my body gives out.

But instead, my thighs tighten. My breath catches.

And the heat between my legs pulses like a fucking metronome, synced perfectly to every shift of the blade.

God. Fucking. Dammit.

This isn’t me. I don’t give in. I don’tbeg.

But he isn’t backing off.

And that edge… that cold steel sliding across my chest, down my ribs, lower—taunting—has my thoughts spiraling into a molten mess. The way he moves like this is inevitable. Like my resistance is just the warm-up act.

The burn in my wrists from his grip. The throb between my legs. The sting in my lungs as I try to hold back the sound clawing its way up my throat.

I’m unraveling and he knows it.

The worst part? I don’t even know if I want to stop it anymore. I’m tired of resisting.

“I hate you,” I whisper, breathless, the words trembling.

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t flinch. Just tilts his head slightly, blade brushing across my stomach like a calculation. Like he’s measuring how close he is to cracking me open.

And fuck, Ihatethat he’s close.

Because Ifeelit.

The weight of him straddling me, solid and unyielding. The hard, unforgiving ridge of his cock pressing into my lower stomach through the layers of our clothes—and it’s not subtle. He’s thick and hard andready. My hips shift again without permission, and that’s when I know:

My pussy is a traitorous fucking bitch.

She doesn’t care about the humiliation. She doesn’t care about the mask or the knife. She wants that goddamn cock. She wants to be bent over and taken—useduntil the fight bleeds out of me in moans and broken cries. She wants him to make mebeg.To make meweepfor it.

And I hate that I want it too.

This isn’t supposed to happen.