I don’t understand why I am drawn to him, why my treacherous body is attracted to him. It’s probably because I’ve never been with a man. No one wanted me until now. Of course, leave it to me to attract the psycho kind.
“You’ve been very quiet today.” He states as we sit down to eat.
“I’m trying to figure out why you want me. What’s so special about me?”
Zane smiles, showing off his stupidly straight, white teeth. “You’re special because you’re mine, and that’s all you need to know. I brought you here to protect you, and that’s what I’m doing.” He shoves a piece of broccoli into his mouth and starts chewing.
Frustration bubbles over inside of me. “You keep saying that, but it makes no sense. The only person I can think that I might need protection from is you.”
Shock overtakes his features, and then his face goes blank. “There are far worse people out there than me. People that will kill and rape you. Sell you. Make you wish you were dead a million times over.”
Wanting… no, needing to hurt him, I lash out. “And you know this how? Because you’re one of them? Because you’ve done all those things and more?”
Zane’s eyes zero in on me, and they are dark, punishing. The hand resting against the table closes into a tight fist. The veins in his arm bulge. Is he going to snap? Part of me hopes so. It’s so hard when he’s kind and caring, I really need him to be angry and cruel. I’d much rather have his fury, than kindness.
“I’ve been kind to you, Dove. I’ve done everything to make you feel at home and comfortable. I haven’t hurt you. I haven’t taken from you, and still, you make me out to be some evil villain.”
“Evil? Isn’t that what you are though? Isn’t that what kidnapping and drugging someone is? I’m here against my will. It’s wrong. Your obsession with me is wrong. All of this is wrong!” I shove out of my chair, my emotions spiraling out of control.
I don’t make it two feet before Zane grabs me, spins me around, and has me pinned to the dinner table face down. He holds me in place, his fingers digging into the back of my neck. The weight of his body presses against me, and I feel his hard cock against my ass. Fear swirls deep in my belly, and I hold onto it. Fear and anger are what I need right now. I need this because I refuse to take his kindness.
“There is something wrong with you, and I refuse to think just because you haven’t hurt me yet that you won’t. You’re no better than any other person who kidnaps and murders people,” I scream and continue my struggle against him.
Snaking his other hand beneath me, I feel his fingers at the waistband of my capris. The air ceases in my lungs. This is what I wanted, right? Why I lashed out?
“Do you want me to hurt you, Dove? Do you want to see what happens when I let myself go? I can assure you it’s not something you’ll forget.” Warm breath caresses my earlobe, and then I feel it. His tongue flicks against the sensitive flesh. I bite my bottom lip to keep the cry in. It feels so wrong.
When I don’t respond, his grip tightens, and I let out a whimper. “Answer me. Is that what you want? Is my kindness not enough… do you need my anger too?”
“Let me up. I hate you. I don’t want you to touch me or look at me!”
Zane chuckles darkly and cups my pussy. “That’s not what I asked you, Dove.” There is a hint of warning to his voice, and my body starts to tremble.
“I don’t want this,” I hiss, finally getting the words to come out.
“But you do… I can feel you, feel your warmth, the tiny wet spot on the front of your panties.”
My breaths quicken, and my pulse races at a million miles per hour. This is wrong. I don’t want this. I don’t want him.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“And I won’t. I’m not hurting you right now, am I? I think I’m doing quite the opposite. I’m going to make you feel good. All you have to do is let me.”
“Stop,” I gasp, feeling his fingers gently graze my center. Pushing back against him, he leans in more, pushing more of his weight into me. Keeping me in place.
“Why? Isn’t this what you wanted?” His voice is cruel, sinister. His finger rubs against my clit, back and forth, back and forth. His strokes are meticulous, and pleasure like I’ve never experienced before blooms deep in my core.
“Oh, god…”
The pleasure mounts.
It’s dangerous. Unstoppable. It grips me by the throat and refuses to let go. My nails dig into the wood of the table. I need something to hold onto, something to keep me grounded.
“Come for me, let me feel how much you don’t want this.” Zane pants against my ear, and as if on command, my body does just that. Light flashes before my eyes, and I explode like a rocket. Shattering into a thousand pieces, my muscles tighten, my core clenches around nothing, and a muffled cry escapes my lips.
Tears sting my eyes because this is wrong, but it feels right.
As I drift back down to Earth, Zane gently removes his hand from my panties, and the weight of his body on mine disappears. I feel like mush, every muscle exhausted. Even though I don’t want to, I push off the table and turn around just in time to see him shoving his finger in his mouth. His eyes fall closed, and dark, untamed pleasure overtakes his features.
“Lies. You taste like lies.” His eyes flash with primal hunger. “Next time, don’t provoke me. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, but I’m not a saint. Every man has his limits…” Before I can conjure up a response, he walks away, heading for the bathroom. The place I planned to run and hide.
14
I shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have let myself go like that. I shouldn’t have let what she said bother me, but like I knew she would, she’s crawling underneath my skin. I’d prepared for this for a long time, for a time and place when she would be all mine, but like most things when it comes to Dove, I never expected for it to really happen. Her ill thoughts of me are the most frustrating part.
Yes, I’ve killed, outright murdered, and hurt people. I’ve done things that no one can fathom doing, but for her to compare me to the rest of the monsters that want to harm her… I just can’t stand her thinking of me that way.
I’ve spent years protecting her, shielding her, making sure she had a nice place to live, and a good job. That no one hurt her. If it wasn’t for me. Nails sink into the flesh of my palm. My nails. The pain brings me back to reality, but reality isn’t any better than my mind.
Slamming my closed fist against the tile of the shower, I try to let go of some of the tension that’s clinging to my bones. I need an outlet, but I don’t have one.
Violence is a parasite, a vicious eater of all the good in you. It’s also the only thing that keeps me from becoming a full-fledged serial killer, and since I have no one to hurt, and no one to destroy here, I’m going to need to control myself better. Which means I’m going to have to work through my emotions instead of shutting them off.
Sighing, I scrub my skin hard, drawing out the pain, reveling in it. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but I don’t understand her need to provoke me. Does she want me to hurt her?