In a fluid motion, I turned around and jabbed at Remo while my other hand pulled up my dress. Remo blocked my attack by hitting my wrist. My years of training with Samuel prevented me from dropping the knife despite the sharp pain in my wrist.
A smile crossed Remo’s face, and I released my dress and rammed my fist into his abdomen while I slashed the knife at him once more. The blade grazed his arm and blood trickled down, but Remo didn’t even wince. His smile got wider as he took a step back, completely unfazed.
I lunged at him but got caught in my long skirt. I barreled into Remo and tried to land another deadlier cut. We fell and Remo landed on his back with me on top of him. I straddled him and stabbed at his stomach, but he gripped my wrist with a twisted grin on his face. I tried to force the knife down, but Remo didn’t budge. And then, suddenly, he showed me what it was like when he actually tried fighting back.
He bucked his hips, and before I could react, I landed on my back and Remo was on top of me. I struggled but he shoved my skirt up and knelt between my legs, moving closer until his pelvis thrust against me and I couldn’t use my legs to push him away. His fingers curled around my wrists and he pressed them into the mattress above my head, the knife still in my grasp and utterly useless. He had me pinned under his strong body, completely at his mercy, both of my hands fastened to the ground.
His dark eyes held excitement and a flicker of admiration. For a moment, I felt proud, but then my situation dawned on me. I was on my back, on a dirty mattress, under Remo. He had me where he wanted me from the start.
Fear overpowered my determination, and my body stiffened, my eyes darting to the disgusting mattress under me. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep my panic at bay. Remo regarded me intently. “Let go of the knife,” he murmured, and I did. I didn’t even hesitate.
Be strong.
I swallowed hard, reminding myself of the camera. I’d take my pride to the grave with me. “Just get it over with, Remo,” I said in disgust. “Rape me. I’m done playing your sick game. I’m not a chess piece.”
Remo’s dark eyes wandered over my face, my hair, my arms stretched out above my head. He leaned down, his cruel face coming closer. He stopped when our noses were almost brushing. His eyes weren’t black; they were the darkest brown I’d ever seen. He held my gaze, and I held his. I wouldn’t look away, no matter what he did. I wanted him to see me as I was. Not a weakness, not a pawn, but a human being.
“Not like this, Serafina,” he said. His voice was low and dark, mesmerizing, but it was his gaze that held me captive. “Not like a whore on a stained mattress.” He smiled, and it was worse than any glare or threat.
He brought his mouth down until his lips touched mine lightly, just barely, and yet a current shot through me. “I haven’t started playing, and you aren’t a mere chess piece. You are the queen.” He took the knife and straightened, releasing me in the process. He stood slowly, drawing up to his full height and staring down at me.
“And what are you in this game of chess?” I whispered harshly, still lying on the mattress.
“I’m the king.”
“You aren’t unbeatable.”
His eyes trailed over me until they returned to my face. “We’ll see.” He sheathed his knife. “Now get out of that dress. You won’t need it anymore.”
I sat up. “I won’t undress in front of you.”
Remo chuckled. “Oh this will be fun.” He waited, and I returned his gaze steadily. “The knife it is, then,” he said with a shrug.
“No,” I said firmly, struggling to my feet. I glared at him and reached behind myself, pulling down the zipper with an audible hiss. Never taking my eyes off him, I pulled at the fabric until it finally fell to the ground, a fluffy halo around my feet.
“White and golden like an angel,” Remo mused darkly as he took in every inch of me.
Even force of will couldn’t stop my cheeks from blazing with heat, being exposed like this in front of a man for the first time. Left in nothing but my white garter, white lace panties and a corset, goose bumps rippled across my skin at Remo’s scrutiny.
He bridged the distance between us, and I held my breath. He stopped close to me, dark eyes tracing my face, and he raised his hand, causing me to stiffen. The corner of his mouth twitched. Then his thumb brushed over my cheekbone. I drew back, away from the touch, which made him smile again.