Page 31 of Coercion

“You have to learn to trust me.” I state.

“Trust.” She repeats, like the word makes no sense to her, like it’s not even in her vocabulary.

“There are people out there, people who will happily hurt you just to get to me.” I state. “And you running off like that will only make their job easier.”

She gulps as that knowledge sets in. As she realises how damned stupid she really was.

My eyes drop. I don’t mean to. Hell, I wish I didn’t look but I stare at her body, at her breasts, at the fucking incredible way her dark nipples are so hard right now I can actually imagine how they’d feel sliding past my lips, into my mouth, how they’d react as I bit them.

She’s skinny. Her ribs are showing enough to tell me she doesn’t eat properly.

She needs someone to nurture her. To take care of her. She needs a parent not a husband.

For a second I think about doing it, about touching her, about cupping her breast just to know what she’d feel like. Would she moan? Would she arch her back into my hold and urge me on? Or would she recoil as if I repulse her? She already let me touch her back at the hotel, she spread her legs for me like she was willing to let me do whatever I wanted, but now I’m wondering if the reason behind that was simply the alcohol she’d drunk.

I glance back at her face and thank god her eyes are shut.

Does she know I’m leering at her? Acting like a teenager that’s never seen a naked woman before? My dick weeps with need and it’s all I can do not to unzip my pants and give myself what I so desperately want.

My thumb drags across her mouth. Her lips are so full, so fuckable. She licks them just a little and though I doubt she realises what she’s done, that turns this entire situation into an inferno.

I lean down, catching her mouth, my tongue claiming what legally is mine anyway. She opens enough for me to slide in, she lets me take what I want, just like the last time we kissed, but there’s no real give on her side. Once more she’s like a robot, she’ll submit but she’s not mentally consenting in any actual way.

I pull back, staring at her now open and obviously hollow eyes.

“Fuck.” I growl, getting to my feet, forcing myself to move. How does this woman have this effect on me? How is this possible?

I know if I stay I won’t be able to stop myself, I’ll have my cock buried so deep down her throat I won’t care for the consequences. I’ll break her while I’m busy finding nirvana.

Christ, this girl is temptation.

This girl is the very epitome of desire.

And yet I will destroy her if I touch her, I can see that, I can feel that. She doesn’t want me. She doesn’t desire me. She will act any way she thinks will save her a beating but, deep down, I think she despises me as much as she despises her uncle and that arsehole Gunnar too.

I prowl the room while she sits up, bringing her arms up to cover herself.

“Did, did I do something wrong?” She whispers and if anything that confirms everything. That her actions can’t be trusted. That she won’t actually respond in a way that shows me what she really wants. She’s buried her needs so deep I doubt they’ll ever resurface.

And yet I want them to.

I want her to want me.

I want her to come out of whatever this broken state is and be the woman I keep getting glimpses of. That fiery, feisty, creature I know still exists. That true Mafia Princess.

“I have to go.” I state. It’s not a lie - I have shit to do. I can’t stay here. I can’t be close to her until I learn how to control myself.

And I sure as hell can’t look at her while she’s wearing nothing but a tiny lace thong.

“Where…?”

I cut across her before she can finish whatever she’s about to ask. “Stay here. In the house. If you try to run again then I will punish you for it and, believe me when I say, you won’t enjoy one moment of it.”

She grits her teeth, nodding.

“Say it, Ruby, say you won’t run.” I bark.

“I won’t.”