Page 73 of Merciless Prince
He kept the knife within striking distance, cold eyes focused on my face. “Strip,” he commanded.
All of a sudden my body felt ten times heavier. “Please… no,” I said softly, shaking my head. I had a good idea of why Killian wanted me to take my clothes off, and the mere thought of it made bile rise in my throat.
“You can do it yourself, or I can make you do it,” he said, narrowing his gaze as he brought the knife even closer to my neck. “It’s up to you.”
I bit my bottom lip and let out a shaky sigh. This wasn’t a battle worth fighting. My clothes were coming off either way, so if I could save myself a little pain by doing it myself, I would. Besides, it wasn’t the act of stripping in front of Killian that frightened me the most. The true horror lay in what he intended to do to me afterwards.
I haltingly unbuttoned the front of the old-fashioned nurse costume.How ironic,I thought grimly.I went from one horror show to another.
When I was down to my underwear, I stopped and looked up at Killian. His cold eyes raked over me like I was nothing more than a piece of meat. Then he shook his head. “All of it,” he said.
I swallowed hard and unclipped my bra, cheeks burning with shame as I felt my nipples harden from the sudden exposure to the cold. Then I hooked my hands in the sides of my panties, pulled them down, and slowly stepped out of them.
“Walk.” Killian jabbed the knife in the air on my right side to show me where to go. His smoldering eyes were locked on mine, all too ready for me to refuse his instructions.
I lowered my gaze to the floor and stepped into the darkness. Killian followed closely behind me, holding the tip of the knife to my lower back to keep me in line. Even though I couldn’t see him, the feel of his eyes on my body never faded.
We reached another hulking granite pillar and stopped. A large wooden board was attached to it; about six feet high and three feet wide. Black ropes and leather cuffs dangled from all four corners, and brownish-red smears covered part of the lower end. It looked like something used for medieval torture or executions.
A cold stone of terror dropped through my guts as I stared at the old bloodstains. “Please,” I said, turning my head over my shoulder to look at Killian. “You don’t have to do this. It’s not too late to let me go. We can work something out.”
“You’ve changed your tune,” he said, cocking his head slightly to the side. “Weren’t you just saying how you know for a fact that I’m never going to let you go?”
“Please,” I repeated, minutely shaking my head. “You really don’t have to do this.”
He jabbed at my back with the tip of the knife. “I gave you too many chances already, Shay. No more.”
“Please! Just let me go!”
He ignored me and spun me around so that I was facing him, back pressed up against the wooden board. Then he held the knife up to my throat again. “Lift your arms.”
Tears sprang to my eyes and rolled down my cheeks as I followed his command. He strapped my wrists into the cuffs before crouching to repeat the process with my ankles. Then he stood and strode away.
Pure terror flowed through me as I waited for him to return. With my naked body splayed on the board, I was exposed and vulnerable in the worst kind of way. I had no idea what was coming, or when. No way to stop it, either.
I heard a click somewhere to my right, and the area around me filled with light, making me wince. Killian must have lit one of the candles that sat in sconces along the dungeon wall. The orange glow wasn’t bright, but my eyes had become so accustomed to the dark that it felt like I was staring right into the sun.
I blinked rapidly, waiting for my eyes to adjust. When they finally stopped watering, I turned my head to find Killian. He was still standing by the wall, looking through a large black bag.
He finally turned and stepped over to me, candlelight flickering in his eyes like a burning hellfire. He trailed one finger over my stomach, stopping just below my navel. I swallowed hard and tried to control my breathing, afraid I would hyperventilate from the cold fear seeping through every inch of me.
Killian lifted his other hand and brought the knife close to me, tracing a line in the air down the valley of my breasts before circling my nipples. The blade was barely a millimeter from my skin. One tiny movement was all it would take to slice me open.
He moved his lips to my ear, hot breath ghosting over my sensitive skin. “Do you have any idea how sharp this knife is?” he asked.
“No,” I murmured, not wanting to find out. “Please let me go. I’ll do anything.”
“I told you, it’s too late now. You had your chance.”
Terror twisted my gut, and I whimpered and shook my head. “Killian, please… we can still work something out. I won’t tell anyone. I swear!”
I hated begging for mercy from him, hated how pathetic and spineless it made me sound, but I couldn’t help myself.
He brought his free hand up to grab my jaw, holding my head still on the board. Then he bit down on my earlobe. My nerve endings flared to life like matchsticks were sparking across my skin, and I let out a gasp.
“You won’t tell anyone, huh?” Killian muttered against my ear.
“I swear, I won’t,” I whispered, hope fluttering in my heart. “Not if you end this now.”
