“No. I don’t want this. Send me back to the cells.”
“Too late for that.”
He pulled her out of the cells. She didn’t look at anyone as she passed, or at least, as Draven dragged her past them, into the house.
She wanted a shower. To relieve herself during the day, she’d pulled her jeans down and squatted in the corner of the cell. It shamed her to know she’d done this, but it was all she could do.
No amount of begging stopped Draven. They entered his home, and as he dragged her upstairs, men and women who were there stopped to watch.
Draven didn’t stop.
No one spoke to him. No one stopped him. He was a force to be reckoned with.
She saw the fear in others’ eyes as he passed. Everyone was afraid of him. This stopped her from fighting. She was fighting with a man she didn’t know, not anymore.
He opened a large door at the end of a long corridor. Once they were inside, he closed and locked it.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Don’t worry, that doesn’t concern you. You stink.”
“Is this your bedroom?”
“You want to fuck me already, Harper? You are a little slut, aren’t you?”
He didn’t make a move to touch her, and in the next second, they were in the bathroom. He turned on the lights, and seeing the toilet, she felt so much relief flood her.
“Draven, please, I need to use the bathroom.”
“You need to go, then go.”
“Draven?”
“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. You may as well stop fighting and accept what is going to happen.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Believe me, I am.”
“I need to pee.”
“Then pee. You think in the past ten years I’ve not seen it all? I’ve seen a woman piss and shit herself. I’ve also seen them begging. Their pussies so wet as they want cock.”
She went to lift her hand to hit him, but he caught her, letting out a tut.
“Let’s get one thing straight here, Harper. You hit me, I’ll hit you back.”
“So you’re a big, strong man that hurts women?”
Draven laughed. “Oh, honey, I can hit you back in many ways that don’t even involve me touching you.”
His warning sent a chill down her spine.
“Come on. I’m bored.”
She pulled her hand to her pants, and Draven followed as they were cuffed together. Pushing them down, he followed her movements. Sitting on the toilet, she held her hand up, and just tried not to look at him, trying to give them both as much space as humanly possible.
Once she finished, she wiped herself and was about to pull her jeans up.
“Unless you shower fully clothed, I wouldn’t bother with your clothes.”
“How am I supposed to get completely naked?”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife. The blade looked incredibly sharp and familiar.
“Isn’t that Jett’s knife?”
Draven tensed but didn’t say a word. They were facing each other now.
“Step out of the jeans.”
She wanted to protest. The thought of a shower was far too tempting to give up.
She kicked aside her sneakers, jeans, and panties.
“The rest.”
She removed the shirt, but the arm of her cuffed hand pooled at her wrist. She held it for Draven to cut, tensing up whenever the blade got a little too close to her skin.
She didn’t want him to cut her in any way. Fear was a great motivator for her doing as she was told.
With the shirt gone, he flicked the blade beneath the strap, and she gasped as the cold metal touched her skin. The bra strap opened and fell to the floor.
She was now naked in front of Draven.
One glance at him, and he was removing his clothes, one by one, but keeping the blade in his hand.
She saw the scars that decorated his chest. Some wounds look like he’d been shot while others appeared to be from a knife.
Biting her lip, she watched him, fascinated, as he moved, as he got naked.
Much to her shame, she felt a stirring of lust deep inside at seeing him like this, at having him close. Her feelings for Draven had never diminished.
Once he was naked, he smirked at her.
“Look at you. I recognize that look. I have to wonder if your fiancé even knew how to take care of you. Did he make you come? Did he make you scream his name as he pounded inside you, over and over again?”
Ethan never had her screaming in pleasure. Sex had been … enjoyable. She was always wet, but it had never blown her mind. Never made her want to do crazy things.
Draven put the blade down, and his hand touched her face.
She didn’t flinch away from him. Staring into his green eyes, she could kid herself that they were still eighteen again with so many plans.
He stroked his finger down her neck, running down her back until he grabbed her ass. She cried out as he gripped her. The pain was instant, but she didn’t fight him as he pulled her close.