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“Gladly,” he grinned an evil grin, and then his hands shout out, grabbing my elbow and bending it backwards.

I screamed, dropping the gun, my elbow feeling as though it was about to break in two.

He bent low, one hand still gripping my skin in a vice and retrieved the gun from the floor, placing it against my temples.

I closed my eyes as the cool metal pressed into my skin, swallowing the lump of fear.

“Threaten me again, Rachel, and I won’t hesitate.”

“So do it.”

He stroked the gun down my face and ran it over my lips. I opened my mouth to tell him he was sick, but the minute he saw the opening, he pushed the gun past my lips and cocked the trigger.

I froze, my entire body growing stiff. I looked at Dante, and at that moment, I hated myself more than ever.

Because despite being scared out of my wits, I liked it.

What the fuck did that say about me?

Why was I feeling my nipples harden? Why was I feeling heat between my legs, and a throbbing in all the places I shouldn’t be throbbing?

What was wrong with me, that something like this would turn me on?

“Ahh, that’s one way to shut you up,” he smirked, his eyes raking up and down my body. He sucked in a sharp breath and stepped closer to me, his hardening cock pressing against my stomach.

“Jesus,” he said in my ear with a breathy laugh. “Your nipples are rock hard. Do you like this, Rachel? Does it satisfy your victim's kink enough to get you going?”

I shook my head, clenching my thighs together as he ground his hips against me.

“You’re a little liar. You’re shaking. And once again, it’s not because you’re scared.

It’s the thrill of what’s to come next. Admit it,” he said, licking my lips before giving me a deep kiss.

“Admit you’re not angry because of what you saw in the garage.

You’re angry because you liked it. You ran, because the fucked- up part of your brain loved it.

Admit that your pussy is fucking soaked right now.

We all have kinks, Rachel, and you get off on being scared.

If there’s a note of fear, you’re off like a bitch in heat. ”

To prove his point, he brought his hands to the front of my trousers and fingered the waistband. “Admit it, or do I have to prove it for myself?”

I said nothing, the stubborn streak in me refusing to give him the satisfaction.

He grinned and pushed his hand into my trousers and in between my legs. His fingers ran along my slit, instantly becoming slick and sliding against me with ease as they got coated in my arousal.

I closed my eyes, a wave of shame washing over me.

But that came second to the tsunami flood of arousal as Dante stroked along my pussy lips, the gun still deep in my mouth.

He pulled his fingers out of me at the same time he pulled the gun from my mouth. He tossed it onto the bed and brought his fingers to my mouth, covering my lips in my wetness.

I pulled my head back and scowled at him. “You’re a cruel fucking bastard.”

“For telling the truth?” he smirked.

“You know what for. You’re cruel, you’re vindictive, you’re—”

“You’re deluded,” he interrupted, advancing on me, forcing me to back up until my body hit the wall behind us.

He pinned me to the wall with his body, his hands coming up to rest on the wall on either side of my head as he lowered his voice to speak in a low, menacing voice.

“You’ve been reading too many romances. I’m not the hero from those books, and you’re certainly not the heroine.

We don’t belong on those pages. You and I belong in a world of our own.

We’re not bound by the rules of a chick flick.

You’re ashamed that you’re turned on, without realising that you pointing that gun at me was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

I have no problem admitting it. I don’t give a fuck if the rest of the world doesn’t understand.

I’m not asking them to play with me. I want you to understand.

I want you to play our game. Free yourself, Rachel, and stop being ashamed because the world has shamed you for your preferences. ”

“I don’t want this,” I told him, the words sounding hollow to us both.

“But you do. You’re just too scared to admit it.

You’ve had horrendous things happen to you, and now you’re ashamed to admit an aspect of that horror has become a part of who you are.

There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You have taken control of something horrific and twisted it to become a positive part of your life.

They tried to control you through fear and violence, and now you control the fear.

You control the violence. They have no power anymore.

Let go of the fairytales. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to me.

I will never be the hero, and if you try to put me on that pedestal, I’ll fall immediately.

A hero will always do the right thing. A hero would sacrifice everything, including his own happiness, for the greater good.

I’m not that man. I’m selfish. I put myself first, and I won’t ever pretend otherwise.

I’m cruel and vindictive. But if you give me the chance, I will treat you as an equal.

I will be selfish for you. I will be cruel and vindictive for you, instead of against you.

Give yourself the chance to accept this life, and you’ll see that I will happily set the world on fire and laugh as it burns, all for you.

But also know that as the anti-romance hero, I wouldn’t hesitate to throw you on the flames as a final sacrifice if ever you betrayed me. ”

“You’re going to hell,” I said, but I couldn’t help the grin that played on my lips as his words echoed around my brain.

“Then I’ll be following you there. Hell is where we belong, and when we get back to where we came from, we’ll greet the devil as an old friend.

Don’t keep him waiting, Rachel. Embrace your dark side and stop letting someone else’s rules dictate how you make yourself happy.

We can make our own book. Fuck those trashy romances. We’re made for so much more.”

I looked at him through my lashes and was incapable of doing anything other than nodding.

He slipped his hands under my ass and hauled me into the air. My legs wrapped around him automatically, as they always did, our bodies fitting together perfectly.

He was right.

I was built differently.

I wasn’t meant to be trapped in a perfect world, following someone else’s guidelines.

I was meant to live by my own rules. I would never be controlled.

And it’s about time I started accepting it.