Taken (Dark Legacy Duet 1)

When I find myself involuntarily arching my back, tilting myself into his hand, I blink my eyes open and find he’s already watching me.

He’s been watching me all along, the bastard.

But that’s what it takes to snap me out of this insanity.

When I slap my hands on his chest to shove him away, he doesn’t budge but instead closes one hand around my throat and keeps me pressed against the wall while his other hand works my clit and fuck, I can’t come. I can’t.

I won’t.

He grins a little, like he knows my dilemma. Like he knows he’ll win, and I feel my hips moving without my permission, feel myself press into his palm.

But then he makes a mistake when he kisses me again.

I close my hands over his shoulders, and I’m so close, so fucking close, and I will not give him the satisfaction of coming.

I snap my teeth and bite down hard on his lip.

The taste of blood, like iron in my mouth, it’s my victory, and I swallow it and I want more, even though I know he will make me pay.

I’m grinning when he pulls back, but not for long.

He uses the fistful of my hair and tugs my head back so hard I feel like he will scalp me.

“That was a mistake.”

He’s pissed, and I am glad. At least he’s not grinning anymore. Not smirking.

He must have known I would fight. He must want me to, because what’s the fun in taking a girl who won’t fight? In breaking a girl who has no fight in her?

He marches me like this, with his face inches from mine, his eyes fierce, right to the bed and tosses me roughly onto it.

His breathing is tight, like he’s trying to control himself, because I’m watching his hands fist and open, fist and open, again and again.

My grin is gone now too, and I don’t have a chance to scoot away before he’s on his knees on the bed and gripping my thigh with one hand—I’ll have bruises like fingerprints there too, to match the ones on my jaw.

He traps my legs with his, knees pressing against my thighs, and he climbs on top of me, capturing my hands when I fight him, taking my wrists into one of his giant hands so easily.

I’m raging, screaming at him, cursing him to hell, cursing his family to hell, using every ounce of power in my body to wriggle away, to at least make him work for it, but he’s just too strong and I’m no match.

I finally stop because I’m exhausted. I look up at him looming over me. He wipes his thumb across his lip and looks at it, at the smear of blood there.

“That was a fucking mistake.”

“You have no right to touch me. To kiss me. Let me go!”

“After I’ve been so patient with you.”

“Patient?”

“You don’t get it.”

He takes the hand with the smear of blood on it and tugs at the mound of hair between my legs, and it fucking hurts.

“You belong to me,” he says.

He must be making a fist with his hand because he’s pulling so hard.

“You’re hurting me!” I’m powerless to move, to make him stop.

“I haven’t begun hurting you,” he says as he moves his fingers, giving me a moment of relief before he slides them lower and grips my pussy hard, digging his fingers inside me.

I make a sound, a whine, a moan. I don’t fucking know.

“You belong to me, Helena. I am your master. I decide when you eat, if you eat. I decide when or if you sleep and in whose bed. I decide if you’re allowed clothes. I decide if you’ll scrub my floors. I decide everything. Me. I am your fucking master.”

“Stop. Please.” It comes out a plea, and I hate myself for it, for the tears sliding out of my eyes. For being afraid of him. Of him like this.

“I decide when you’re rewarded, and I decide when you’re punished. And I should warn you, I have a taste for the latter and you’re already owed. More than once.”

I swallow, and I’m squirming like a tiny animal, helpless. Like a fucking rabbit caught in a trap.

“I own you, body and soul.”

“No. Not soul. Not that.”

He pulls his hand from my pussy, and I can breathe again.

He brings it to his nose, and his smile grows so fucking wide, I want to kill him. To smash his perfect teeth in, his perfect face, and I feel myself burn with humiliation when he smears his wet fingers rudely across my face, my mouth.

I smell my scent, that of arousal above all else. He smells it too, and he wants me to know it.

“You have sharp teeth and a sharper tongue, but I’ll break you of those. I’ll make better use of your mouth, like I will your pussy and your ass because I own every hole. And you will know that you are nothing. Nothing but my fuck toy. And you know what else, Helena? I’ll take the greatest pleasure watching you come. Watching you as you realize your body will betray you. Your pussy will betray you. It already has.”