"Now don't be like that, pretty girl. You want me to keep things nice. Don't you?"
I turned my head away. He knew the perfect words to use. Substituting my name with misogynistic terms for women. Reducing me to nothing but my looks and my purpose, to nothing but what I did to him, what I did for him.
It made my pussy pulse with desire.
I fought not to moan.
Not earning entry between my legs, he found another way to violate me. My dress was mostly backless and had prevented the wearing of a bra. Now, the hand that gripped me at my waist took advantage of this, reaching under the material at my ribs to palm my breast.
His hold was tight, and it hurt, his trimmed nails digging into my skin. I would have bruises from this.
It was perfect. Such a perfect scenario. I could imagine it. I was a smart young woman trying to get a leg up, working extra hours with her seemingly detached boss, not realizing that his devilish grin was really dangerous. Not realizing that once he was alone with me, he'd want more from me than my reports on supply and demand.
God, I was dizzy, it was so hot.
Except, no.
Liz Stein hadn't had it this easy. Rape was rape—I wasn't saying that one rape was easier than another—but I needed this rougher.
And I was positive that was why Donovan was doing this—for me. Because he knew this was exactly what I needed.
So as he kissed my neck and continued to fondle my breast, I bent down and bit his arm, sinking my teeth through the layer of his white tuxedo shirt until I hit skin, until I hit blood.
He jerked away, shaking his hand. "Fucking bitch."
But in that brief moment that he was distracted, I escaped, crawling across the coffee table to get to the hallway that connected the residence rooms. There wasn't anywhere to run, really. The next room had more seating in a different arrangement but nothing else. Nowhere to hide. I breezed past it to the dining area, where a long banquet table ran the length of the room.
Donovan was right behind me.
I knocked over a chair behind me, stalling him, and running along beside the table. I would have to double back along the other side, I realized quickly, since this room ended in a wall.
The chair was barely an obstacle. I looked over my shoulder in time to see him jump it. Which was terribly sexy and wild. Then, as I rounded the table, he climbed up and across it, getting off on the other side. Before I could switch gears and go back the other way, he'd caught me.
"And now we’re going to have to do it the hard way." Something told me he wasn’t too disappointed.
I was panting like a dog, my panties so wet they were slippery as he pushed me toward the banquet table. But I struggled, kicking him high in the thigh with the back of my foot when he tried to bend me over, barely missing his crotch.
For a second he lost his grip again, but when he regained it, he was pissed. I could feel it in the way he clutched me, the way he slammed me against the wall. I’d have bruises from this too.
"You hurt me and you're going to hurt more." With that venom in his voice, I almost believed him. Or maybe I did believe him, that it came from somewhere so deep inside him that it was absolute honesty. That if I did hurt him, if I broke his heart, then he would, whether purposefully or unintentionally, hurt me more.
Or maybe I just wanted to believe that, that that's how much he loved me, because it turned me on to believe that.
He was actually hurting me now. My shoulder ached from how he wrenched it behind my back to tether my wrists. I could feel him fastening them together with a rope of some kind. His bowtie maybe, but he’d left that on the couch.
I glanced behind me and saw a flash of gold at my skin. One of the ribbons from the Christmas tree. When he was walking around the room he’d been preparing. Just like Theodore had done with Liz.
Perfect. Donovan was so perfect.
He knew that one day, inevitably, I would have nightmares about what Theodore did to Liz. I would create images where, instead of Liz, it was me that Theo wrapped up with the belt of a robe and raped. Especially after tonight, after seeing Clarence and believing he was the man who’d wanted to hurt me long ago.
Donovan was giving me images to replace those before I'd even created them.
I'd been hesitant to say I was in love. I'd been falling for so long, but I wanted to be sure before I told him. After all the years and energy he'd invested in loving me, I had to make sure my emotions were significant enough to match his. And I had to really understand what he felt before I could even make a comparison.
Right then, right there, with my hands tied behind my back, my cheek pressed against the wall, and his hand clasped at my throat, I finally understood the depth of what he felt for me.
And so I surrendered.
Even as I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. Even as he tore my thong and I wiggled and writhed. Even as he used his knee to separate my legs, and I flailed against him, I surrendered.
Surrendered everything.
And when he shoved inside me with his hot angry cock, he pounded all the tension and torment of the evening from my body, leaving me limp and weary and his.
We came together, both of us grunting out our releases like they'd been days coming. Like we'd been just practicing before, and this was the performance. A performance meant only for two.
Donovan let go of me, leaning back against the table to catch his breath. Meanwhile, I sunk to the ground, my hands still tied behind my back. I kept my eyes closed, my cheek pressed against the cool wall and allowed myself to revel in the blissful feel of nothing.
Suddenly, Donovan was kneeling in front of me, turning me to face him. He reached behind me to untie my wrists and then ran his palm down my cheek. "Talk to me."
He was checking in. Good man. Last time we’d played this I'd ended up sobbing in his arms.
"This was definitely a whole lot better than chatter. Just what I needed.” It was a lot more complicated than that, but the point was, I was good. “How about you?"
His shoulders eased, his face relaxed, and words rushed out of his mouth like air out of a balloon that had just been untied. “I love you. I want to be the one to take care of you. I’m not going to share you anymore. Not even with Weston.”
God, I was such a dummy.
He hadn't been tense because of Cade. He'd been tense because of me. Because he’d walked in and seen me in the arms of a man who’d once been a potential threat.
And all I’d wanted was Donovan. Wanted Donovan to comfort me, wanted him to say he loved me. How could he not understand that? Hearing it now for the first time for real shook me to the core. It was the balm I'd sought all night. He was the refuge I'd sought all my life.
I flung my hands around his neck and tipped my chin up to kiss him. Then I pressed my forehead against his.
“Okay," I said because there were no words for this, for all the words inside me. Just… "Okay."
Chapter 14
The next morning, I studied Donovan across the kitchen bar as I licked yogurt off my spoon.
"Is it weird to have me here?" It was the first night I'd spent at his house since we'd been officially together, and what I was finding weird was how weird it wasn't.
Donovan looked up from his tablet, where he was reading the Sunday morning paper. "It's nice to have you here."