She turns her face away in reply.

“Are you ready to listen, or do you need me to punish you first?”

Her eyebrows furrow.

“Hmm?”

She returns her gaze to mine.

I wait for her reply.

She nods.

“Is that a nod to being punished first or to listening? Be a big girl and use your words, sweetheart.”

She mutters a ‘fuck you’ under her breath.

“What’s that?”

She narrows her eyes. “I’ll listen.”

I watch her for a minute. I’ve studied photos, but this is different. In the flesh, she’s different.

“I’m not the only monster in this house.”

She goes pale at my words. Good. She should be afraid. Because fear may keep her safe. Not from me but from the others.

“What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. In time, you’ll be allowed to walk freely but always keep that in mind.”

“In time? Are you going to lock me up?”

“Yes. For your own good.”

“Is that how you’re going to justify this to yourself? It’s for my own good? You kidnapping me is for my own good? You killing my father…” Her voice breaks, and I watch a tear slide out of the corner of her eye and down over her temple. “Are you doing this to me because of the accident?”

She knows that answer, doesn’t she? I have to remember she only just learned that we were in that accident together while I’ve had almost a decade to come to terms with it.

“Are you going to hurt me?” she finally asks as more tears flow.

“What we have will always hurt. You should remember that.”

“We have nothing, Damian. You’re nothing to me.”

“But you are something to me, and soon, I will become your entire world.”

“Why are you doing this? What do you want?”

“You. You’re what I want. I thought it was clear.”

“Why?”

Just as she’s not ready for my cock, she’s not ready for that answer, so I switch tracks.

“Never attack a man like that again. You’re not strong enough. No woman is. Even the weakest will easily overpower you, and you’ll just end up pissing him off.”

“I won’t be a meek little victim.”

“Take care, Cristina. Many men will retaliate. He will retaliate.”

“Who’s he?”

I release her, my mood darkening. “You’ll find out soon. Get up. Get showered.” I touch her hair. “Did you cut it yourself?”

“I didn’t have time to visit the hairdresser before you kidnapped me, did I?” She sits up, watching me as I walk to where her backpack is. I slide her laptop back inside but leave the books, the toiletries, and that stuffed rabbit on a chair. I walk to the door, checking the time as I do.

“Who’s he?” she asks again.

“You’ll find out sooner than you want to know.” I open the door. “I’ll have food sent up.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat it anyway.” I take a step out.

“Damian?”

I stop and turn to her.

“Are they okay?”

“Who?”

“My family.”

“You care about your family when they betrayed you?”

“They didn’t betray me.” Her forehead furrows. “Not all of them.”

True. “They’re fine and will be as long as you do as you’re told.”

“You can’t hurt them.”

“That’ll be up to you.”

“Please.”

“That’ll be up to you,” I repeat.

“My backpack—”

I take a step back toward the bed. “Nothing is yours anymore, Cristina. Everything is mine. Including you. Don’t you understand that yet?”

I wonder if she realizes that she shrinks from me.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why?”

She nods.

“An eye for an eye. A life for a life.”

“My life.”

“It’s in the Bible, so it must be right.”

“No. Turn the other cheek. That’s the rest of it.”

“Not in my world.”

“Did you kill my father? Were you in that room with him?” Her eyes glisten with tears I can see her fighting to contain.

I sigh. “The night we first met, the night your father died, he made a great sacrifice. He bought you eight years. Your childhood.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He made an agreement with my father, and I’ve honored it.”

“But…” She flounders, her forehead wrinkling as she tries to make sense of this.

“But you’re no longer a child, are you?”9CristinaWhen I hear the lock turn, I get up and walk across the thick carpet, then onto cold stone. The door is a heavy wooden one with black iron hardware that looks about as old as the rest of the stone, but I know it’s newer. Or at least it’s all been refurbished.

The door doesn’t give when I try to open it, tugging on it once, twice, three times. I put my ear to it but don’t hear a sound. Not even his receding footsteps. Nothing.

Turning back into the room, I lean against the door and take stock of myself. I may as well be naked since he undressed me while I was passed out. He claims he didn’t touch me, but he certainly did touch me a few minutes ago.

My face burns at the memory of him on top of me, behind me. His erection pressing against me.


Tags: Natasha Knight Unholy Union Erotic