Page 160 of Sawyer

I tilt my head to the side, playing coy, even though everything inside me wants him to answer my unspoken questions. Before I landed in that facility, I would have raged at him that I could never go into a heat.

Now, I’m not so sure.

I sit on the bed, wondering how far I have to take this. How far do I have to go to survive? I smile at Sal, and it’s the first genuine smile I’ve felt in days. I will do whatever it takes to survive.

Whatever it takes.

I grip the hem of my dress and slowly lift it, drawing Sal’s gaze. The predictable alpha brushes a thumb across his lip as he stalks closer to me. His eyes blow with lust as he moves to touch my knees, spreading them apart, and I tamp down the need to shut them.

This is nothing more than an act, a play, and I am the star.

I am a heroine. The main character.

Channeling some fierce main character vibes, I lean closer to Sal, placing a hand on his chest as I widen my legs and let the dress rip just a fraction. The tear is the only sound between us, and it ignites Sal’s lust.

His hand snaps out, threading his fingers in my hair and ripping my head back. His gaze scans my face. “I don’t know why you had such a change of heart, but I’m not about to allow this gift you present to me go. Oh no, Sawyer, I’m going to take it.” He leans down to my ear. “And I’m going to take you.”

Fear spikes inside of me, and I shudder. Luckily, Sal mistakes it for desire and presses between my legs.

How far is too far?

Survive. Just survive. Crash later. Cry later. Just survive, Sawyer. Survive.

I play the mantra repeatedly in my head as Sal hikes up my dress, and the sound of his zipper echoes in the room.

“I wanted to bite your pussy and let my bite bond you where you’re most vulnerable.” He presses even closer to me, his free hand gripping my hip. I can already feel bruises form from his fingertips. “But I think I’ll just bite you right here.” He licks the curve at my shoulder and neck. “Then my son can see that I’ve marked what he wants.” His voice has a taunting quality that rolls over me like a threatening wave.

Breathe, Sawyer.

A shaky inhale fills my lungs, and I reach for Sal’s pants and slowly roll them down over his hips. My hands glide across his hip bone and tease the fine hairs of his groin.

My desire rebels, and bile threatens to spill from my lips.

It doesn’t matter how often I tell myself to survive, I don’t want to do this.

“I know you don’t want me, Sawyer,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, “but I’m going to take you anyway.”

My eyes close as an icy wave of resignation cascades over me.

Sal reaches between us, grabbing his dick in his hands, and guides it between my legs. His canines brush along my flesh.

Alphas all function the same. Well, the bad alphas do. They take what they want, and some, from what I’ve heard, prefer to bite mid-thrust.

I don’t plan to let him thrust into me, not at all.

I may not be in the best of shape—hell, hiking alone kicked my ass—but I love to weight lift, and my thighs are muscular.

I lower a hand to grab his ass and drag him close to me.

A door slams downstairs, causing Sal to jerk back. His eyes dart to the door, then to me. He’s torn.

If he leaves me now, then I’ll never get my chance.

I grab his face and pull him down for a kiss, which I fake the best I can. With a groan, he forgets about the door and pushes me into the mattress, his dick lying against my thigh.

I’m cold to him, I know it, but I don’t plan to fuck him. I just need him to think I do. Pulling away, Sal trails kisses over my chin and neck. His hands grip my hips, tilting them toward him.

It’s now or never, Sawyer.

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