I found myself in the bedroom, taking my clothes off as if it was an automatic gesture. I thought about how I’d felt outside, the wind in my hair, the sensation that nothing contained me, nothing held me back, a familiar feeling since I’d been with Cameron. I was in the process of pushing my panties down when the bedroom door opened. I turned, my heart thundering, my mind spinning. Cameron shut the door behind him, the suit he had on not taking away from the sheer presence that surrounded him.

“Damien is there for protection, not conversation,” he said as he started to remove his tie, his focus on me.

I swallowed, not sure if I should hold my ground or back away. I couldn’t help but feel like he was stalking me, moving forward slowly, waiting for his chance to attack. There wasn’t anything I could say, nothing I wanted to say in that moment. He kept moving forward, tossing the tie on the bed. Then he went for his cuff links. It was then, once he had them off and set on the vanity, that I realized I was stuck between him and the wall. There didn’t seem to be any way to stop this.

Do I want to stop this?

Yes, I wanted to scream out. I want this to stop. I shouldn’t have to compromise myself because my body warmed at the thought and sight of him. This man made me feel things that I wanted to keep buried, hidden. I felt like my own body was working against me, succumbing, submitting to this man…this monster.

This is insane. You are insane.

I couldn’t help thinking that over and over again, disgusted with myself and this man, because not only did I fear him, but I wanted him, too. A gorgeous demon intent on corrupting me, determined to make me his.

“You can ask anyone about me.” He moved a step closer. “But if you want the truth, you’ll ask me directly.”

I was a prisoner of my own body, my mind. “Asking you anything directly seemed like crossing a line.” He was just inches from me now, his body so big, his heat so intense. Before I could contemplate what he was going to do, what he might say, he had his hands on my waist, turning me, and setting me on the vanity.

The apothecary jars crashed to the side before rolling off and shattering on the ground. Here I was, ready for him, my mind screaming to preserve my self-respect, to let him know that I was strong.

“Who are you really?” I found myself asking, my voice breathy, my body ready. He had his hands on my waist still, holding me, caressing me. I wasn’t a fool to think this man would be gentle, not in the parts that counted, not when there was fucking instead of making love.

No, Cameron was definitely the hate-fuck kind of guy, the one who took what he wanted because he knew he could. But then again, I wasn’t a flowers-and-chocolate girl. I’d come from the gutter of the world, fought my way to the surface just so I could breathe, and the darkness Cameron offered was what I craved.

“Who are you, Sofia?” He slid his hands up to my bra straps, slid them over my shoulders, but didn’t remove the garment. “Tell me you don’t want what I can give you, that you aren’t wet with the idea of the depravity in which I can cover you completely.” He smoothed his hands over the mounds of my breasts, which rose violently above my bra line. “Tell me that taking you in the way I want to, crave to, doesn’t make you so fucking ready for me you’re on the verge of begging me for my cock.”

His words should have shocked me, had bile rising in my throat. Instead I found myself moaning, unable to control myself, unable to control the most basic urges I had for him.

“So tell me, sweet Sofia. Who are you?”

We stared into each other’s eyes for a long second, my mind a whirlwind, my throat tight. “I’m the girl who sold herself to the very devil himself, right?”

He smirked, the first time I’d seen anything but hard composure on this man’s face.

“Who are you?” I asked again, not sure if this was smart, not sure if just playing out this time wasn’t the best route for me to take. After that I could go, live my life, be away from it all. I’d find a way to leave, to forget about what I’d gotten myself into, what I’d seen. The death, the violence, the fear I felt when I didn’t think I had any options with Ricky—those things didn’t have to control me. They didn’t have to follow me for the rest of my life.

He slid his hand up to my throat, added a bit of pressure, and leaned in. “I’m a man with a past you don’t want to know about.”

But I did want to know about him. I did want to know how he became the way he was, this powerful person who was deadly, intelligent, and mine for the next two weeks.

That last thought slammed into me so hard I made this involuntary sound, this breathless gasp.

“Tell me what you just thought about right now,” he said, moving an inch closer, my legs spread, his erection tenting the front of his slacks and coming into contact with my pussy. He felt so hard, so big. I was a virgin, had never even been with a man before. This would have scared me with a “normal” man. Cameron was anything but normal. He was dangerous, probably volatile, and the things he wanted to do to me…I shivered at the images.

I contemplated about lying, about making something up, or maybe being submissive, subservient. I thought about just telling him I made the sound because I was eager for this, or maybe scared of it—the latter being the truth. He added a bit of pressure to my throat, and I braced my hands on the vanity, rising up slightly. I arched my neck, wanting the pressure off, wanting him to add more.

He held me like he had a right to, like I wanted this, would beg him for it eventually.

I’d probably do that now.

What I was fighting myself on was the fact that these things he said to me, did to me, humiliating as they were, turned me on.

“I thought about how I’m yours for the next two weeks, but that you’re also mine.” Being honest seemed like the best course, but truthfully I probably wouldn’t have been able to force the lie out anyway.

He pulled back and stared at me, barely breathing, not moving.

A part of me didn’t want to desire him, didn’t want this. But I couldn’t fight it. I didn’t want to.

“You want to know the man I am, Sofia?” The way he said it, the look in his eyes and the deepness of his voice, startled me. He was like an animal waiting to pounce on his prey, just take the weaker creature and devour it.

And I was that weaker animal.

He moved back from me, his hand leaving my throat. He started undoing the buttons of his shirt, pushing the material off his shoulders, and I was left speechless as I stared at the body before me. I’d been able to see how strong and muscular he was even when he wore a suit. Thick biceps, vein-roped arms, a defined six-pack and that V that framed it, and tattoos covering it all.

It wasn’t the ink that startled me, but the thick scars I saw underneath. Ones that looked like knife wounds, maybe even cigarettes burns? There was an array of other nasty-looking ones that could be made out if I looked hard enough. The ink did a good job of camouflaging it all, but they were there, a testament of the violent life he’d led. Were they self-inflicted or brought on by another? Had he been held down and tortured, or freely accepted his fate? The words slammed into my head, the questions replaying over and over again.

“The monster I am is on the inside and outside, Sofia.” He moved toward me again. My legs were still spread, and he stepped between them, his body heat seeping into me. “I never pretended to be someone I’m not.” He tilted his head to the side, his focus on my mouth, his dark eyes like coal. “Beaten as a child, sold into an illegal underage fighting circuit, I made sure I stayed alive. That’s all I knew how to do.” He had his hands on my thighs, his fingers long, rough. He added a little bit of pressure. I knew he could snap my bones with ease, his strength not something he showed. It was just who and what he was. “Love and affection is not something I know, not something I will ever embrace.” He slid his hands up my thighs, over my belly, along the curve of my breasts, and wrapped them around my throat once more.

There was no fear in me, despite my heart thundering and my palms sweating. The feeling of his hands on my neck was comforting, secure.

“The love I learned was fists slamming into my body, blood filling my mouth. Eating, breathing…surviving, meant I fought my way to the top.” He moved an inch closer, his hard cock pressed to my pussy again. “That’s the type of man I am, the only comfort I know.” His mouth was so close to mine, his warm, sweet breath moving along my lips. “But I saw you, and this obsession grew, this possessive need to have you, claim you as mine.” He looked me right in the eye, maybe willing me to understand the severity, depravity of what he meant. “And for the first time in my life I wanted something soft and sweet.”

Could he hear my heart beating, see how rapid my breathing was?

“So you know who I am, see what I am.” He moved his hands down my arms, squeezed my wrists, then moved them behind my back. “Keep them there.” He then lowered himself to his haunches, placed his hands on my thighs, and wrenched them open until pain sliced through my muscles.

I was wrapped up in a delusion that I was his, or maybe it wasn’t delusional at all. Maybe I was his, in every way, and in the end I’d be this twisted, warped, desperate person, needing his touch, aching for it.

“So pink. So wet.” He looked up at me, the shadows playing across his face. He leaned forward, and I held my breath. “Make noise for me, pretty girl. Scream, lash out if you want. Pain and pleasure make one strong emotion that’s undeniable.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I shouldn’t want to feel good, but God, I did.

And when he ran his tongue up my slit, swirling along my clit, the noise did spill from me then.

“Never deny me, sweet girl,” he said against my soaked flesh. He ran his tongue up and down my pussy, lapping up my arousal. “Never deny me and I’ll give you the fucking world on its knees, bowing to you.” He gave my pussy one last lick, causing me to shiver. He rose up, moved his thumb along the pulse right below my ear, and said, “Always be my good girl and you’ll reign over it all.”

I didn’t know what that meant, didn’t know if I wanted to know.

He had his hands on my waist, and in a second he had me flipped over, my belly on the vanity, my ass popped out. God, he was so strong. Cameron had my hands still clasped behind my back with the slightest discomfort.

Everything happened so fast. My heart spun. My pulse raced.

The feeling of his warm breath on my ass had me glancing over, seeing him kneeling behind me. He pulled my ass cheeks apart and stared at what he revealed. I was dizzy, my world rocking on its axis, twisting, turning. Uncontrollable.

“You smell so sweet, so innocent, and mine.” He squeezed my flesh, a sharp sensation that claimed me, grabbed hold and wouldn’t let go. “You’re so fucking wet for me, for the fact I want to defile you, do things to you that you’ve never imagined.” He growled low in his throat, this animal feral, stalking.

He moved his lips over the top of my ass and took hold of each of my cheeks in his big hands. He just held his hands there, not doing much but kissing my flesh, running his teeth along the mounds.

“I know you hate this, that you fucking loathe the fact you’re greedy for me, your body primed, ready for my invasion.”

The cry that left me was more from arousal than anything else. He smoothed his hands over my waist, gently, almost caringly. But then he dug his fingers into me, making me still, holding me in place.

“Oh God.” I tried to move away from his erotically abusive mouth, knowing that I shouldn’t want this. It was this instinct in me, this fight mode that had my toes rising, my heart thundering.

“You already crave me, my touch, my mouth on you. And my cock will soon be filling you, stretching you.” He ran his teeth along my flesh, and a violent shiver worked its way through me. “My need for you, my obsession knows no bounds.”

“This is twisted, insane.”

“Sweet girl.” He was tormenting me with the promise of forced ecstasy. “Trying to fight me makes this better, turns me on more.” He groaned deeply. “I want all of you, your emotions, the sensations you feel,” he said and placed a finger by my pussy opening. “I want your words, the screams of your orgasm, the pleas for me to stop.” He pulled the digit away, never fully penetrating me, just staying right there at the cusp. “And when you beg me to stop, cry out for more, I’ll make you see that there is no end.” And then he did penetrate me, but not where I thought he would.

He moved his tongue along the secret part of me, the spot hidden until he’d displayed it, pulled my ass apart. His entire focus was there, making me squirm, making me hate myself for wanting it so much. I was lost in the sensations, in the feeling of him running that muscle up and down me, teasing the hole, gently prodding it. He made me take it, made me want it.

With his hand on the center of my back now, keeping me there, making me accept this, I felt the air leave my lungs. I didn’t know if someone could get off from this, but the intense sensations I felt made me realize that anything Cameron did to me, I’d want ten times over.

Tears tracked down my cheeks, my emotions so turbulent I couldn’t control them, didn’t want to. The hand still holding on to my ass gave a hard, painful squeeze. Cameron licked that dark, secret place once more, then pulled away, spun me around, and stared me in the eyes. I was still crying, unable to stop.

“Maybe I don’t want this.” The sweet, salty flavor of my tears slid down my cheeks, a path of sorrow, of need. I didn’t know why I said anything, why I felt the need to kick the hornet’s nest. I cried because the emotions, the sensations were too much, too intense. He placed his hand right between my thighs, right where I ached for him. I opened my mouth on a silent gasp when he started rubbing my clit. The pleasure built inside of me. Cameron made this deep, humming sound.

“Lies. Fucking lies, Sofia.” His hand holding my waist was bruising me, no doubt having purple and blue marks forming on my pale flesh. “With me you’ll only tell the truth. And if I have to force it out of you, make you come as you say the words, so fucking be it.”

I knew I couldn’t lie. My body betrayed the truth, denying what I said. I tried to stay strong, distant. And then he wrenched the pleasure from me, reaching in deep to my very soul, pulling it out and ripping it free. I was helpless to stop myself, but truth was I didn’t want to fight it, didn’t want to pretend I didn’t want this. I started crying, the pleasure too much, the realization of it all too much for me to take in.

“My sweet Sofia.” Before I knew what was happening, Cameron had me in his arms, cradling me to his hard, powerful body, and holding me. He said things low, far too quietly for me to hear, but I didn’t need to know what he said.

The atmosphere had changed, and in that moment I was here because I wanted to be. I wanted the beautiful torment he delivered, gave me freely.

I didn’t push him away, didn’t try to run. Instead I let Cameron carry me to the bed, knowing I was done fighting, even if it was only myself the war had been with.