Page 63 of Monster

He shook me against him, his lips grazing my ear and making fear run up and down my spine. I was going to be sick.

“You started this, little girl. You could have killed me with that knife.”

“That’s the point!”

He shook me again. “Well, now you’ve done it. You’ve unleashed the monster.”

I cried out when he turned us around and brought me to his room.

“No, please,” I begged, tears dripping down my chin.

“I might be a monster,” he said, kicking the bedroom door open. I flinched at the noise. He threw me on the bed, not too gently. I turned around and looked at him. “But I’m your monster.”

I shook my head and tried to back away from him. He grabbed my legs and pulled me toward him. I kicked his hands, but he was much too strong and much too quick. It didn’t seem to have any effect on him.

“Let go of me!” I screamed, panic in my voice.

He shook his head. “No. Now you have to fucking deal withyourfucking monster.”

“I don’t want it. It’s not mine.”

He wasn’t mine. Not the man, and definitely not the monster.

He crawled his way up my body, pushing my legs apart and settling between my legs, bringing us to the same position we had been in this morning.

Unlike this morning, I didn’t feel desire mixed with fear and a hint of apprehension.

No, right now, all I was feeling was unadulterated fear.

I struggled beneath him, and he pushed his body weight down on top of me, trapping me against the soft mattress and his hard body.

“Dominic!”

“Say my name again, wildcat,” he said roughly, his eyes wild.

He pushed against me once again, his hard erection pressing against me in the most intimate position possible.

My legs trembled. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“What a fucking stupid thing to do.”

“Please.”

He held still but didn’t lessen his weight, letting me feel the hard press of him, feel the way he covered my body with his. Letting me feel the solid man on top of me, an immovable burden that wouldn’t lessen unless he decided to lessen it.

I was helpless beneath him, unable to budge under his weight.

I met his eyes. The blue irises swirled in an electric fire that I didn’t think I had seen on any other men.

My lips trembled, and his expression changed marginally.

It was slight, and I almost wouldn’t have noticed it had I not been looking at him closely enough.

My mouth opened but nothing came out, and I didn’t know why it suddenly felt like the weight of the world was piled onto my too-small shoulders.

His face relaxed, apathy etched into every line, and somehow, that only worked to calm me down. He wasn’t looking at me with pity.

Not the way people back home had once they found out what happened to me.

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