Page 3 of Marked

Think with your head. Don’t think about how much you want to jump on his cock and ride him until the sun rises.

Don’t think about how much you want to come right now.

Don’t think about how much you want to spend the night in his bed.

Don’t think about his hands all over your naked body, before he thrusts into you and makes you scream his name…

I suddenly found it very difficult to breathe.

My eyes lifted to his dark blue ones, searching his gaze for any indication of what his intentions might be.

He was a perfect stranger, and I only knew his first name.

I didn’t know where he came from or what he did for a living or why he was even at this bar tonight in the first place.

I didn’t know why he’d taken an interest in me either.

I didn’t know if he was about to tear my clothes from my body and fuck me in this dark alley, or whether I wanted it or not.

I didn’t even know if I was going to like it.

“What do you want with me?” My voice was hardly above a whisper.

“Everything,” he answered softly, before using his body to pin me against the wall.

I grew nervous and tried to kick my knee up between his legs, but he angled his hips and used his massive form to limit my movements.

I wasn’t even able to graze him. I was helpless.

He was so much bigger than me, and all of my usual tricks were failing me.

His right palm snaked up around my throat and tightened, cutting off the flow of air into my lungs.

My body pulsed with heat at being treated so roughly.

He stared down at me, clear warning in his gaze, and I finally stopped fighting him.

Outmaneuvering his strength when he held me captive like this was not going to work.

I’d have to play it smart if I wanted to figure out a way out of this, if that’s what I still wanted.

Honestly, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. The haze of arousal was pulling me in too deep, and I couldn’t find my way to the surface. The passionate heat swirling through me was quickly taking over, and I didn’t know up from down or left from right anymore.

His lips descended back down to mine, his kiss sweet yet harsh in the same breath. My heart pulsed and my body heated. I was so very wet. No man had ever made me this aroused before, and I couldn’t even begin to understand it.

He claimed my mouth as though he owned it, taking my breath and stealing it as his own as his tongue swirled around mine.

My lips throbbed with his kiss, and I couldn’t help myself as I returned it.

His palm squeezed just a little tighter around my throat, and I felt my body curling toward him.

I could feel his hard cock against my belly, and I knew then that it wasn’t small at all.

It was big, and if he fucked me with it like I wanted him to right now, it was going to hurt.

My inner walls fluttered, anticipating what that massive shaft would feel like pumping in and out between my thighs, and I lost all rational thought.

When he finally pulled away from that kiss, I was left panting and on fire.

There was no fight in me left when he released my throat, spun me around, and landed several hard smacks over the jeans that covered my ass.

I cried out in surprise, but he pressed my chest against the wall with his body.

My breasts grazed the concrete, and I was once again thankful for the padded bra I was wearing underneath my shirt.

“You’ve never been spanked before, have you?” he asked.

“No one has ever dared,” I finally managed to whisper.

“Good. Because there’s going to be much more to come for your bare little ass once I get you up to my room and over my knee, baby doll,” he growled, and my pussy clenched hard at his threat.

For a second, I imagined myself naked as he guided me over his thighs, and a rush of liquid heat gathered between my legs at the thought.

Then I remembered myself.

No one messed with me. I fucked with them. He wasn’t going to master me by taking me and spanking me like a naughty little girl. Not tonight. Not fucking ever.

I spun around, lifted my leg, and snaked it around his hip.

I slid my hand down my leg to my ankle and swiftly unholstered the switchblade I always carried with me, no matter where I went.

A girl needed protection, and right now, I was thankful for my diligence.

I pretended that I’d lost myself, unashamedly rocking my hips against him in order to cover up my movements.

As good as it felt, I needed to get out of here and fast before I ended up naked in his bed, or even worse—bare over his knee, getting my bottom smacked.

The thought gave me pause, but then I lifted my arms up around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. Carefully, I engaged the release mechanism on my blade, and it swung open.

Then, I made my move.

With a certain practiced deftness, I flicked my wrist and pressed the edge of the knife against his throat. I snarled, waiting for him to realize that he’d been outmatched. That I’d won and he’d lost. He stilled, edging back just a little to break the kiss I’d tricked him into.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I snarled.

The bastard laughed, the sound loud, hearty, and incredibly unnerving. I didn’t quite know how to respond. I hadn’t expected that.

“I hadn’t yet decided if I was going to fuck that pretty little bottom of yours tonight, but you just made that decision for me,” he countered, his voice lowering with dark and seductive promise. My stomach dropped at his words.

I’d never been fucked back there, and I wasn’t about to let him be the first. Not only would it hurt, I guessed, but it was too shameful to even think about.

“The last man that tried to carry me off from this alley bled to death before he could even put his hands on me,” I lied.

I needed him to be afraid of me. I needed him to let me go.

With a bit more viciousness, I pressed the blade more harshly against his neck.

He grunted slightly, and I could see just the smallest drop of blood forming against the edge of my knife.

A flash of delight raced through me at the sight. I could win this. I might be half his size, but I was smart, and I would use that against him.

I wasn’t ignorant with a blade. In fact, I was pretty fucking good with one.

Living in this city had taught me that being soft was as good as painting a target on your back.

I’d trained myself, learning how to fight from watching old street hustlers and mimicking moves from late-night martial arts flicks.

The number of times men had tried to rob me or do worse was too high to count.

I’d never killed anyone, but I’d come damn close.

One night, in a dimly lit alley reeking of piss and damp concrete, a man had grabbed me from behind, yanking me against his chest. His breath was hot on my neck, his intention more than clear.

I’d been panicked, but reacted on pure instinct.

My hand had shot to the switchblade in my boot.

As his fingers had tightened on my arm, I’d turned and struck, the blade slicing across his throat.

It wasn’t deep enough to kill—more of a warning, but the thin line of blood blooming against his skin sent him staggering back, cursing all the while.

That was all I’d needed to get out of there.

I ran like hell, heart pounding, and never looked back.

The details of that fight replayed in my mind, sharp as broken glass.

His eyes wide with shock as he felt the blade graze his skin.

The metallic smell of blood mixing with the stench of the alley.

The way my pulse roared in my ears, drowning out the sound of his threats as he stumbled away clutching his neck.

I remember the weight of the knife in my hand and the surge of relief when I realized I still had it.

Just like I felt right now.

Alaric moved unexpectedly, ducking and maneuvering out of the way of my blade.

His sudden move caught me off guard, and I reacted instinctively to defend myself.

I swung my arm around and leaned forward, using my strength and momentum to stab downward to his waist. I aimed for a place right above his hip on his lower back, where I knew his kidney would be located.

I brought my arm down hard and expected the sharp blade to slide right into his flesh, but something beneath his t-shirt stopped the knife dead in its tracks.

I’d used all of my strength, and it had done nothing.

It hadn’t even touched him. Not even a scratch.

I growled with anger as he grabbed my wrists. He wrenched my hand backwards and the knife fell from my fingers. He caught it with his other hand and swiftly tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans.

“You’re an impressive little warrior,” he mused, staring down at me with a smirk. “I’m going to enjoy making you scream my name as my cock fucks that tight little pussy good and hard, just like it deserves.”

I gasped in shock as his fingers brushed against my leg and dragged up my jeans to caress between my thighs, circling his thumb directly over the very needy bud hidden beneath layers of fabric. My hips rose up to meet his touch, despite everything in me that tried to stop them.

“You’re not going to break me,” I challenged him, and he chuckled in response.

“Before the night is over, baby doll, you’re going to beg me to take you in ways so shameful that you’ll blush for days just thinking about them,” he whispered in my ear.