Page 100 of Crushing Clover

I’d always hated being in trouble, but there was something about his growling, masculine animosity. I hated the way he loomed over me and tried his best to intimidate me. He hurt and humiliated me anytime he even noticed me. He’d used his fucking belt on me. He’d made me lick his boots.

So much bullying.

So many unforgivable cruelties.

The slash of his dark brows, his hard, cruel hands.

He just used me.

Abused me.

His cruel hand in my hair, my name on his lips. I shattered, my hips bucking up to meet my fingers harder—meaner.

Something banged into the door, but my head was such a mess it took me a moment to realize what was happening. Almost too late, I yanked my hand from my panties.

The door was flung open, and he stood there in the doorway, a monster. An apparition.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I was asleep,” I croaked. “You startled me.”

With his face a mask of fury, he slammed the door closed behind him, cutting us off from everyone else. Worse, he locked it.

“What’s wrong?” I tried to demand, but my voice came out weak and croaky.

“You know what’s wrong!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked stupidly. It wasn’t hard to look half asleep when my mind was still scrambling to catch up, but I wasn’t sure if he was buying my attempt to look innocent.

“You think you’re so fucking untouchable,” he seethed, jabbing a finger in my direction. Considering his mood, I was glad that finger wasn’t loaded. “One of these days, life is going to fuck you in the ass, and I’ll be there to gloat when it does.”

“What?” Now I was really confused. What on earth was he talking about? I could see him being angry about catching me masturbating, but his eyes weren’t right. He was here, but he wasn’t seeing me. Not the real me, anyway.

“Saint, what’s wrong?” I ask quietly, hoping he would snap out of this. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, you’d love hearing me say it out loud, wouldn’t you? You conniving, striving little bitch. You’ve probably sprained your arm patting yourself on the back since you found out—dislocated your fucking shoulder.”

He was standing over me now, wild-eyed and terrifying. When he was in full control of himself, he was fun to fuck with. Butwhen he lost his temper like this? Real fear sang through my veins. I curled into a ball, sure he was going to start hitting me.

“You got your dream. You can be the snobby little self-satisfied bitch I knew was always lurking under that sweet veneer. It doesn’t mean a damn thing. It doesn’t mean you’re better than us. You wanted more, and you got more, but we’re more without you than we ever were with you.”

He grabbed my throat, and I scratched at his fingers, trying to loosen his hold. Some of the men at the resort had been out to hurt me, but this was so much more terrifying.

I fought, looking up into his dark, wrathful eyes. In that moment, I saw Warren gazing down at me. He was going to kill me—finish the job the men on the island had left undone.

Abruptly, he let go, and I arched my back in an unconscious bid to inhale air as quickly as I could, not knowing how long this reprieve would last.

He shoved my skirt up and tore my underwear off my body, stinging my hips with the force of the tearing fabric.

“Saint!” I begged.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled in fury. He grabbed one of the couch’s throw pillows and slammed it down over my face, hurting my nose and making me see stars. Shocked, I inhaled sharply, and lint and dust invaded my lungs. I tried to say something, but the pillow pressed against my lips, mashing them against my teeth, muffling what little sound I could make.

He shoved my legs apart and got between them, laying me out on the couch. I tried to kick him away, but he was stronger, and I was gasping for air. His cock grazed my still-sensitive clit, and I bucked, instinctually trying to keep him out. We struggled, but he was too strong, and all too soon he forced his thick cock inch by inch into my pussy, giving my body what my mind had been fantasizing about mere moments before.

I managed to turn my head partially to the side to inhale from the corner of my mouth, but blood dripped down the back of my throat. A hard, unforgiving hand dug into the flesh of my thigh, keeping me wide open for his furious thrusts. He stabbed me with his cock like he wanted to murder me with it. Under him, I quaked with fear.

Would he kill me after this?

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