Page 45 of Under the Bed

Desperate for it.

What’s wrong with me?

“No, I didn’t.” He bats my hand away, tugging at the knot on my towel.

It opens, revealing my skin to him. This is bad. This is wrong, how he won’t let me close the towel. How he pushes my legs apart.

“Didn’t miss you one fucking bit, Shiloh.”

“Stop.” Tears well in my eyes. He isn’t letting go. His cock is hard against my thigh. I know what comes next.

This can’t be my first time. With a man who loathes me. Who wants to kill me.

No matter how much I idolize him. Want him. Wet for him. I’m indebted to him, but now that he’s here, now that the threat is real, I can’t.

I’d rather die a virgin.

I’d rather he end it quickly.

If he had missed me, it would have been a different story. He hadn’t, that much is obvious.

“Why should I?” Kaleb runs two fingers along my pussy, drawing wetness up to my clit.

“Stop.” But I arch my back to him. Lift my ass in the air, offering myself to him.

“Answer me.” His voice is firm, his fingers sliding up and down my pussy.

Through the fear and desire, I notice that his touch is tentative. Rubbing me slowly. He shoves his fingers between my lips and circles my clit, picking up the pace when my breath catches.

He’s looking for my pleasure points.

I gulp.

He’s going to force it on me.

The man who so clearly despises me.

He’s going to use my pleasure to humiliate me.

“Stop, stop.” I was ready to die. To be punished for what I’d done to him. For never speaking up. I can’t deservethis. To be mortified and hot and panting for him. “Stop, please. I don’t want it if you hate me. Kill me. Chop off my finger. Just stop it.”

My hand on his wrist is useless. He yanks it away effortlessly. Glares at me through those black, dark eyes of his mask.

“You’re soaked, Shi.” He lifts his hand, and the evidence is there. My endless pleas for him to stop prove to be a lie. “Give me one good reason why I should believe you.”

“This can’t be my first time.” A tremble courses through me. My answer has to be wrong. A punishment follows it when two of his thick fingers are shoved inside me. Stretching me. Curling inside me and—“OhGod.” I clench my teeth against the onslaught of desire. “I’d rather die.”

He’s watching me. His gaze roams over my body and face while I moan and writhe and cling to the rug. It’s wrong and fucked up, and I truly shouldn’t want this. Even if my body is singing a different tune.

Even if my pussy feels full and empty at the same time.

“Liar.” He curls his fingers again, rubbing my walls. My reactions—he’s repeating it because he’s seen me react to this.

My stepbrother is an observer. He’s learned, in a few minutes, how to manipulate me through his touch. He hasn’t had any experience with it, I realize, as he starts circling my clit with his thumb again. Doing what coaxed moans out of me.

He’s studying me.

But this is his first time, too.

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