“I’m not angry at her. I’m angry at myself. What would I say to her? I’m sorry that I let him rape you in the room next to mine. I’m sorry that I covered my ears instead of listen to you beg him.” He flips me over in a rough flash, and I’m facing the bed, a weight behind me. His breath warms my temple. “I’m sorry he hurt you for so long because you wanted to make sure I was fed.”
Tears dampen the sheets beneath my cheek. “Liam.”
“It wouldn’t be a sweet reunion, Samantha.”
“You’re hurting me,” I say, even though it isn’t exactly true. It doesn’t hurt, the way my arms are held down. You’re scaring me. That’s what I really mean. He lifts some of the weight on my back, but he doesn’t let me go. I’m his prisoner. It’s like I’ve awakened a beast inside him, one who won’t be satisfied until he tastes first blood.
Liam
Fear. Pain. Grief. The scars from a lifetime ago burn across my skin.
A heavy heartbeat pounds in my chest. It’s like I’m in battle, but I’m not fighting the slim form beneath me. I’m fighting a formless enemy—the past. Samantha should know what she’s tempting with these questions.
I would hit him over and over again. I would hurt him.
Of course she would. Justice makes sense to her. She loves me with the wholehearted purity that a ward can love a guardian. I saved her from a life of drudgery in that orphanage. And probably death, from whoever hunts her now. Only a fool would assume gratitude has nothing to do with it.
My knee presses between her legs. She stiffens as she senses my intent.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, her voice muffled against the mattress.
Does she sound afraid? I’m depraved enough to prefer it. “You said you wanted me to hold you. For comfort. That’s what I’m doing, little prodigy.”
“This isn’t comfortable.”
I press my face to her neck, breathing in deep. It’s a fully animal bondage, scenting her where she’s the most vulnerable, brushing my nose against her nape so she shivers. “It isn’t?” I press a kiss to the top of her spine. “I’ll have to try harder.”
My other knee pushes her legs farther apart. In this position I can press my erection to her core. I don’t plan to fuck her right now. I’m not quite sane enough for that. There’s the chance I could hurt her, and there is no pleasure in the world that would make me risk it. I can rut against her, though. Again and again until she moans low and reluctant, her little hands forming fists in the bedcovers.
“Wait,” she gasps out. “Wait. Wait.”
Red tints my vision. I’m not the man who’s taken care of her all these years. I’m not the man who waits because she’s nervous about the pressure on her clit. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t the foreplay you wanted, hearing about my mother getting raped. It was a better outcome than some of the women who came on that truck. She was sold to a man who married her. Most men won’t do that.”
Her body stills beneath me. “What truck?”
“Didn’t I mention? My mother was imported from Mexico. Like avocados. Or little sombrero hats that hang on rearview mirrors. She cost a few hundred dollars. And she was young enough that most men who wanted a girl would keep her in a basement somewhere. My father was the kind of bastard who didn’t care that other people knew he bought her young.”
Shivers wrack her body, and I realize she’s crying.
Disgust turns my stomach. I force myself to back away from her. I’m kneeling on the bed, touching her in zero places, and still I can feel the imprint of her body. “Now you know what I am. The devil inside me? It doesn’t care about how old you are or whether you want this.”
She looks over her shoulder, tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. My heart stops at the picture of her despair. What have I done to her? “How dare you,” she says, her voice low. “You aren’t him. You aren’t anything like him.”
“Haven’t you heard me—”
“Oh, I’ve heard you. I’ve heard that you think you’re using me. And you’re just waiting for me to leave, aren’t you? That’s why you refuse to open up to me, because you think that one day I’m going to disappear like your mother did.”
I stare at her helplessly, unsure why she doesn’t see the truth of the statement. She’s the one kneeling, but she has all the power right now. I’m a supplicant behind her.
She stretches her body far enou
gh that her pretty little ass touches my groin. I suck in a breath. “Samantha. You shouldn’t do that. I don’t have any control.”
“That’s right.” Her voice comes out caustic. “There’s a devil inside.”
“Don’t tempt me, little prodigy. I want to prove how much it’s true.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” Another press of her ass. She’s turned into a little cock tease. “Show me what’s so scary. Show me how you’re going to act like your father.”