Page 31 of Wicked Mistletoe

“Bitch! You’ll regret that,” he snarls. His voice is menacing, but there’s something else—something dark and electric that ripples down my spine. It’s a foreboding sign of payback that fuels my adrenaline. I dash around my sofa, feet pounding towards my bedroom.

Finally, my hands wrap around the door, and my heart skips with the thrill of escape as I push it open.Yes! I’m in!Before I can slam it shut, though, a booted foot wedges in the gap, stopping the door. I glance up, and his eyes are dark as night with a glint that promises punishment.

I gulp, instinctively releasing the door to retreat deeper into the room.I’ve trapped myself. Wetness pools on my panties as he enters with a slow, deliberate intent, then locks the door behind him.

He strokes the white beard hanging from his chin, watching me with that predatory calm behind the mask. He knows he’s got me cornered.

As he starts to approach me, I launch myself at him with a feral yell, fists up like I actually plan to fight. If this were real, I’d go all out—years of combat training would give me a good shot—but he’s way bigger and stronger than my sparring partners, and this isn’t an actual altercation. More importantly… Iwanthim to catch me.

And he does. He grabs my wrists, twists me around, and uses his grip to shove me forward. Then—click.Cool metal kisses my wrists, followed by another click.

He handcuffed me. Oh god.

Before I can even process this new development, his hand tangles in my hair and yanks, hard enough to send sharp stabs of pain down my scalp. My eyes water as he pulls my head back into him. “You shouldn’t have hit me,” he growls, nibbling my chin.

“Fuck you.” I moan, voice catching between defiance and lust.

“Do you hear that? Do you make that sweet sound for your boyfriend, or is that just for me?” He jerks my hair again, pulling even harder, and I can’t stop the tears rushing down my eyes at the painful sting. Gritting my teeth, I drive my elbow back into his chest, and he grunts, releasing my hair.

I’m free—for now. My feet barely hit the ground before I’m sprinting towards the bathroom. But with my hands cuffed behind me, I’m off-balance and slow. It’s all he needs. He grabs my shirt again, and I scream as he pushes me down. Pain reverberates through me, my knees hitting the floor with a jarring thud. But fuck if the pain doesn’t spread out into pleasure when he pushes me again until I’m forced chest-down on the floor.

Before I can even catch my breath, he’s on me, straddling my body, trapping my legs between his. “Stay. Fucking. Still,” he growls when I try to buck him off me like I still have a shot.

Spoiler: I don’t.

Suddenly, something cold and sharp grazes the skin of my back, sending a shiver through me. I crane my neck to look and—oh shit.My lips part at the wicked-looking curved knife in his hand. He runs the back of the blade over my skin again, and I must be out of my mind because it only makes me wetter.

The tip presses into my shirt, just enough to feel, as he starts dragging it up until the material rents into two. “You’re wearing the lingerie. Good girl.”

He moves the knife to the waist of my slacks, and with one swift motion, he tears them apart, shredding the material and shoving the pieces away until I’m lying on the floor in just the red and gold lingerie he got me.

My cunt pulses, clenching painfully around nothing while Rafael licks his lips, watching me with a hooded gaze. Then he tosses his knife aside, and his hand comes down on my ass with a loud smack. The pain radiates through me, drawing a ragged cry from my throat.

“That,” he snarls, “is for kicking me and running away, pretending you don’t want this when your panties are fucking soaked through.”

His hand kneads the flesh of my ass, sending waves of pleasure surging through my veins. I moan, melting into the floor like I’m ready to surrender. Then I remember I’m supposed to be fighting. He may have my hands cuffed and my legs trapped between his, but that doesn’t mean I have to make it easy for him.

I get even wetter as I renew my struggle, wrestling beneath him. He spanks my ass again, then fists his hand in my hair, yanking so forcefully this time that sparks burst behind my eyes. I scream, sensations exploding—twin currents of pain and pleasure so intense I don’t know where one stops and the other begins.

“You can scream all you want, but no one will hear you. No one is coming to save you.”

My heart races as his words wash over me, eerily echoing my own thoughts from years ago when I felt truly hopeless. But this time, there’s no fear. Because this is Rafael.My Rafael.

“No, no, please don’t.” My voice cracks when I feel the knife return to my hip. Real panic tightens around my throat, and I glance back, only to see him calmly slicing through my panties. The rush of relief nearly makes me dizzy. For a second, I was transported back to that dark moment in time.

Rafael’s gaze collides with mine, and his smirk grounds me again, so I slip right back into our script, wriggling beneath him now that the knife is away from my skin. “Please don’t do this... I don’t want this.” A big fat lie—I’ve never wanted anything so badly.

With a flick, he peels the ruined fabric from my hips, leaving my hot, wet cunt exposed to the cool air.

“Little liar.” He leans over my back, dangling the underwear in my face. “Look how soaked your panties are. And you want me to believe you don’t want this?”

I shudder as he pushes the panties under my nose and my own smell fills my nostrils, making me heady. I’ve never been this aroused in my life. It’s maddening—the more I fight, the more my body screams for him, so I keep fighting. I’m a raging fire, burning with need, but kicking is pointless. He’s a goddamn brick wall, and I’m just a leaf caught in a storm.

He chuckles as his hand lands on my ass and slowly snakes down towards my pussy. Immediately, I clamp my legs shut, but he just chuckles again, adjusting his stance behind me so that his left knee forces its way between my thighs, prying them apart like it’s nothing. My breath hitches, and I can’t help but feel a rush of vulnerability mixed with excitement.

A sharp ache builds in my shoulders, my arms straining like hell from being cuffed behind my back for so long. The discomfort only makes me more desperate, more frustrated, and I grind my teeth as I buck against him in one last attempt at pretending I have control here. But then his hand slides through my wetness, and every ounce of resistance evaporates. His finger slips into me with ease, and I swear I see the galaxy behind my eyes.Holy shit. My body betrays me—my moan is thick and throaty, and my pussy clenches his finger, welcoming the intrusion with an undeniable hunger.

“Fuck,” he grunts, withdrawing his finger just as fast, leaving me a mess of need. I whimper, my hips chasing his hand before I can stop myself. “That’s it, beautiful. Show me how much you want me.”

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