Page 31 of Enraptured

“Fuck this. I’ve had enough! Get on your knees!” He presses me down on the ground. The sound of his fly unzipping loud in the small corridor.

“She’s sick. She’s in the hospital. For all I know she could be dead!”

“Who?”

“Yaya!” I scream. “Dimitri thought I should know. I want to go to Greece. I want to visit to her.”

“You can’t. You’re dead, remember?” He growls.

“Then kill me already. Do it for real. At least I’ll be free of you—of this!”

“Never!” He roars, hauling me back up in his arms, kicking through doors as he carries me upstairs.

I slap his face hard.

He slaps mine back.

He sets me down, hands ripping at each other. “I hate you!”

“I hate you more,” he pants squeezing my throat. I slap at his hands, but he lowers his head, tugging my nipple into his mouth as he chokes me.

I stop trying to pry his hands off my throat and start choking him back. We roll on the bed, fighting. Tearing at each other until we crash onto the floor. I land on top of him, wasting no time jerking him free from his pants as he rips what’s left of my shirt off my body. I squeeze him hard in my hands—so hard he hisses at the pain. “Hurt me,agápe. Hurt me. At least I’ll feel something.”

“Make me. Make me feel too. I’m as dead inside as you are,” I pound a fist against my own chest, “this heart might beat, but it feels nothing. Your disease is contagious. You’ve infected me. So, do it, Christos. Do your worst. Maybe the pain will make me feel alive again.”

“That I can do.”

He grabs me by the hips, lifting me up as he stands. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do to you for a long time.” He grabs his phone from the floor and sends a text. Then he picks me up, carrying me out of the room, down the hallway and into an empty bedroom.

“Holy hell.” I breathe, as he presses a piece of molding and the wall moves, revealing a hidden staircase.

He carries me up inside one of the turrets that, from the outside, I thought was just a decorative peak, but it’s a hidden solar of sin that make’s Grey’s playroom seem like a daycare.

“What is this place?”

“One of my great-great uncles hid his mistress in this tower. It’s where I came when I was a boy to hide. My parents would fight a lot about me, blaming each other for having defective genes. I embarrassed them. As you can imagine, I was hardly popular, didn’t play polo or rugby, or get invited to birthday parties much. How could I make friends?” He shrugs, walking over to a table where leather cuffs attached to chains hang from every corner.

“This was my secret hide out from the world. I used to have a chalk board that took up the entire wall. I’d solve every mathematical equation I could. Numbers I understand. It was people I never could.”

“Strip. Get on your knees and crawl to me. Scream as loud as you’d like. I sent Mrs. Fitz to Switzerland. There’s no one here but us.”

“I might be dead inside. But I’m still not your submissive. I never was…never will be.”

The glint in his eye has me backing up against the small window. He pulls a very familiar knife from his pocket, opens the blade, and slowly walks towards me.

“You’re being a bad little girl. So bad,” he breathes turned on by my refusal to submit to him. It’s then the lightbulb goes on. I figured out his game, finally after months and months of unwillingly playing it. He asks me to submit but wants me to fight. The more I fight; the more turned on he gets.

I drop to my knees immediately, pull my shirt off and unsnap my bra. My head lowers as I wait to see what he’ll do next.

He uses the tip of the blade to force my chin up. “You forgot your pants, sweeting. Get up.”

I rise, watching dispassionately as he lowers my leggings. As his body lowers, he stops with his face inches from my core. He inhales deeply, buries his nose between my legs then takes his knife to cut my thong off.

“Now you may kneel, then crawl.”

“I still won’t have sex with you,” I mutter with my head bent as my knees scrape across the floor.

I stop when I reach the tips of his shoes. He always makes me the vulnerable one, making me go naked while he leaves his boardroom clothes on. “Get on the table.”

---