Page 85 of The Psychopaths

She swallows hard, the pulse in her throat fluttering visibly. “My body. My...virginity. My obedience. Whatever you want.”

The words should please me. Should feed the dark hunger that’s been growing since I first saw her. Instead, they land flatly and rehearsed. Like she’s offering herself on an altar—a sacrifice rather than a willing participant.

“Virginity?” I set down my fork. “Now that is interesting. The perfect Hayes daughter, saving herself all these years. For what? Marriage? Or were you hoping Aries would finally notice you weren’t his little sister anymore?”

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” I say simply. “It matters very much. Because I don’t want a martyr in my bed, Lilian. I want someone who begs for what I give them.”

She takes a deep breath, seeming to center herself. “I’ll do anything,” she repeats, but this time with a heavy sigh that speaks volumes. “Whatever it takes to help him.”

Her tone makes something dark curl in my gut.This isn’t desire. This is sacrifice.

Noble, selfless Lilian offering herself up to save her precious stepbrother.

I push my plate away, appetite gone. “Eat.”

Her fingers toy with the fork, pushing food around without taking a bite. “I’m really not hungry.”

“Fine.” I stand abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. “Let’s skip the pretense then. If you’re so eager to trade your body for his freedom, we might as well begin.”

Her eyes widen slightly, but she nods, rising from her chair with the resigned dignity of someone facing a firing squad. She walks ahead of me to the bedroom, steps controlled. No hesitation. No fear. Just acceptance of her fate. When she reaches the bed, she simply sits on the edge, hands folded in her lap.

“Should I...” She gestures vaguely at her clothes, voice impossibly small.

“Should you what? Strip? Lie back and think of England?” The sarcasm cuts through the room. “Tell me, was this how you imagined your first time? Offering yourself like a virgin sacrifice to the monster under the bed?”

Her lack of response infuriates me further. She simply shifts up the bed, lying back against the pillows, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Go ahead,” she says softly. “I won’t fight you.”

The last remaining shreds of control sever. This passive surrender isn’t what I want. Isn’t what I’ve been fantasizing about since I first pinned her against that wall. I want her fire, her defiance, her reluctant desire. Want her writhing under me, fighting her attraction even as she surrenders to it.

Not this...compliance.

Anger burns in my veins. The need to destroy, to hurt overtakes me. I grab the lamp from the nightstand and hurl it against the wall. The shattering of glass makes her scurry back against the headboard, her blue eyes wide with fear.

“What—”

“Is that what you think this is?” I snarl, snatching a book from the shelf and throwing it to join the shattered lamp. “That you just lie there like a corpse while I take what I want? Some noble sacrifice for your precious stepbrother?” More anger. More rage. I grab another object—a glass paperweight—andthrow, watching it explode against the concrete wall with grim satisfaction.

“Arson, stop?—”

“No.” I turn to her, breathing hard. “You stop. Stop this pathetic martyr act. When I decide to fuck you, you won’t be lying there enduring it. You’ll be begging me for it. Desperate for it. So wet you can’t think straight.”

Her cheeks flame, but her eyes hold mine, something shifting in their depths.

“Is that understood?” I demand, voice dropping dangerously.

“Yes,” she whispers, and for the first time tonight, I hear a tremor of something besides resignation in her voice.

“This isn’t a transaction.” I kick the broken glass aside, stalking toward the bed. “This isn’t you paying some price. It’s not a fucking business arrangement.”

Her eyes track my movements, wariness replacing that infuriating resignation.Good.I need her present. Need her feeling every second of this.

“Then what is it?” she asks, voice steadier now.

I grab the edge of the mattress, flipping it partially so she tumbles off with a startled cry. The bedding follows, sheets and pillows scattered across the floor.

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