Page 13

Margot

There’s a comforting weight on top of me, and an intoxicating scent surrounds me. I inhale deeply, sinking in, letting it lull me back to sleep.

Until a breath of air brushes the back of my head.

Then, the weight rises slightly in an inhale, hold, then exhale.

Oh my God.

Matty!

Everything slams back into place. The café. The credit card. The phone call. The murders . The kidnapping .

My eyes fly open.

The weight, it’s Matty. Sleeping on top of me. Not spooning me. No. He’s smothering me. Covering me like a damn starfish.

I’m lying on my stomach, facing away from him. Some of his chest lies on the mattress, but since he’s a fucking giant, the rest sprawls across my back. One massive arm drapes over my shoulder, onto my pillow. His right leg covers mine, the rest tangles around me .

Too close. Way too close. I need to get out of here.

Just one more minute.

No!

I shift, trying to wiggle free, but the slight movement earns me a low, rough groan.

I freeze.

That’s when I feel it.

The hard, thick bulge pressing against my ass.

He. Is. Huge.

Panic, or something far more dangerous, races through me. I try to slip out again, but I must shimmy against his… situation… because this time, not only does he groan, but he grinds into me.

I go completely still.

Then he does it again.

My body betrays me. My breath catches. My thighs squeeze together. His thrusts are slow, powerful, needy.

Another groan rumbles through him, a deep, wrecked sound, and my entire body lights up.

Shit. Shit.

I shove at him, throwing every ounce of strength into it.

He doesn’t budge.

“Ugh, get off me!” I snap, desperate to escape before I do something reckless, like lean into him.

Don’t act like your boxer briefs aren’t soaked. Shut it! How else am I supposed to react when I wake up to a giant, sexy man humping me? You’re on his side of the bed. You sought him out.

Matty stirs. His voice is low, disoriented, drenched in sleep. “Huh?”

“You are on top of me! Get Off!” I demand, fighting the breathiness in my voice .

“Give me a minute, sweetheart.” His weight shifts, more of it settling onto me. “You’re too soft.”

Soft? How dare he!

“Get off, you bastard! Now!”

He exhales, completely unbothered. “Shh. It’s too early for this.”

Too early? The sunlight streaming through the window says otherwise.

“I swear, if you don’t get off me right now–” I cut myself off. I have no leverage. No threat to make.

Finally, finally, he moves, shifting lazily as he gets up against the headboard, the sheets still covering his torso.

I should be relieved. Instead, my body misses the warmth.

Which is ridiculous. How can I miss my kidnapper’s warmth?

I scramble to my side of the bed, putting as much distance between us as possible, but I make the mistake of looking at him.

Big mistake.

His dark hair is an absolute mess. Then he stretches, arms overhead, muscles flexing, and the comforter slides down his chest.

Good. Fucking. God.

His abs. His pecs. His cut, chiseled everything. My tongue flicks out to wet my lips. I hate myself for it.

A low chuckle rumbles from him. “Sweetheart, if you keep looking at me like you’re going to pounce, I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

I meet his gaze. It’s dark. Hungry. Dangerous.

My entire body flushes red. “Fuck off. You know you’re hot.”

His smirk deepens. “Don’t worry, spitfire. I’m holding myself back too. Seeing you in my clothes, no bra, knowing that sweet pussy is bare against my pants…”

My breath catches.

He’s watching me, devouring me with his eyes, the sleepiness long gone.

Then his words register.

Oh my God. He knows.

He must have seen my panties in the bathroom.

My brain scrambles. What pair was I wearing? Were they lacey? Or granny panty? Dear God, please tell me they were sexy.

Beneath my embarrassment is giddy, reckless satisfaction.

Because Matthias Montclair wants me. Wants me badly. And the way he looks right now, like he’s barely restraining himself from demolishing me, is thrilling.

Please do.

No. No! I need to shut this down.

I clear my throat. “So… what’s there for a captive to do on Day One?” I leap out of bed, desperate to create space.

His smirk turns amused. “Changing the subject?”

Yes .

His gaze sweeps over me, slowly and thoroughly. Head to toe, and back up again. The fire in his eyes ignites.

“Fuck.” He rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Don’t ever stop wearing my clothes.” His jaw tightens. “Unless you’re wearing nothing.”

He adjusts himself beneath the sheets.

My eyes drop before I can stop them.

Holy hell. I was right. He’s huge.

I bite my lip.

His entire body tenses.

“Fuck it.”

He lunges.

I yelp, barely escaping, sprinting into the bathroom and slamming the door shut .

A low, dark laugh rumbles from the other side. “I’ll let you go this time, sweetheart. But I’m going to have you soon. I know you’re going to taste so sweet. You can run, but you won’t get far.”

My pulse races out of control.

I press my back against the door and inhale sharply. Since I’m already in here, I might as well get ready for the day.

By the time I’ve brushed my teeth and washed my face, his footsteps retreat.

I tiptoe into the closet in my now-dry panties. Black and sexy. Not that it matters. I don’t care what he thinks.

Liar.

I might as well wear his comfy clothes. He kidnapped me. He can deal with me stealing his wardrobe.

I grab a pair of black sweatpants that cinch at the ankles and a worn navy T-shirt tucked under an oversized sweatshirt.

The sweatshirt falls just above my knee. Shockingly, it isn’t tight around my hips. I’m keeping this one.

As I’m throwing my hair up in a messy bun, a knock sounds at the door.

Here we go.