Psychos (Depraved Sinners 1)
Marcus pushes off the wall and strides toward me like a lion stalking its prey until his shins are pressing against the edge of my mattress. He reaches out, and before I get the chance to flinch, his thumb and forefinger are gripping my chin and forcing my eyes up to his. “Much better,” he growls, his tone like a knife straight through my chest.
The anger works its way through my body, and completely forgetting that my new plan of attack is to act bored with their bullshit, my hand flies out and slaps his wrist away from my chin. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I snap, flying to my feet on top of the mattress and putting us eye to eye.
His head tilts in that strange fucked-up little way that makes him and his brothers seem even more deranged than usual, and he watches as I peel myself off the wall and step in even closer. I narrow my eyes in rage, flooded with the painful realization that I’ve always been a fucking prisoner. First to my father, then to an isolated life hiding in my one-bedroom apartment, and now to these three men.
“You don’t get to touch me,” I growl, adopting that same darkness that seems to swim in the depths of his eyes. “You don’t get to fucking touch me. Is that clear? You’re a pig, a fucking animal.”
His eyes flare, and for a moment, I fear that I’ve pushed him too far. “On the contrary,” he tells me, that deep brassy tone bouncing off the walls. “You’re mine to do whatever the fuck I please.”
I swallow hard and press my hand against his chest before shoving and forcing him back. I drop down off the mattress and stand before him, feeling like a fucking kitten standing up against the fearless lion and trying to roar. “Like hell I am,” I tell him. “You have two fucking seconds to get your ass out of here before I bust it wide open. I’m not spreading my legs for you or your fucked-up brothers, so you better get used to the idea now because you sure as fuck won’t like the consequences if you attempt to put your hands on me again.”
Marcus’ lips twitch and his eyes narrow in irritation before his hand snaps up and curls around my throat, his big fingers practically touching at the back of my neck, yet somehow still allowing me to breathe. My whole body is jostled around as he lifts me right off the fucking ground and presses my back against the cold stone wall.
He leans into me and I suck in a breath, smelling him all around me. His eyes linger on mine before slowly dropping down my body and scanning over my subtle curves, still in his dead mother’s black silk gown.
He gets closer and closer and the little hairs on my arms stand to attention as chills sweep over me. “That’s a mighty bark for such a little pup,” he mutters just before his tongue sweeps out and curves over his full bottom lip. “Tell me, what’s your bite like?”
I fight against his deathly hold, desperate to get away, or at the very least to put just a bit of distance between us, but it’s no use. I might as well be in chains; his hold is just that strong. “Fuck you,” I snarl, clenching my jaw as anger and frustration get the best of me.
His eyes come back to mine and the interest within them has my stomach swirling with unease. “Are you done?”
His bullshit tone suggests that I’m having some kind of tantrum and I gape at him in confusion. “Am I done?” I snap back at him, bringing my hands up and latching onto his tight vice-like grip around my throat. I dig my nails in as hard as I can, trying to pull him away, and for a slight moment, I could swear that the filthiest type of pleasure rocks through him. “As long as you assholes are keeping me locked up in your fucked-up little torture chamber, I’ll never be done.”
Finally catching on, he releases his hold on me and drops his hand, but he doesn’t dare move out of my way, keeping me trapped with his large, toned body. He doesn’t say a damn word, only tilts his head in that weird way and watches me like he’s imagining just how fun it’ll be to drain the life right out of me.
I swallow over the lump in my throat and sink back closer to the wall, desperate for space between us as his wickedly intoxicating scent is starting to fuck with my head. I mean, damnnnnnn. On top of looking like a devious little treat, why does he have to smell so freaking good?
“What’s your deal?” I question, desperate to keep him talking rather than eyeing my body like his next meal. “Why can’t you just let me go? I played your stupid little game. You stalked me through the fucking castle with your goddamn dogs. You’ve already humiliated me. You kidnapped me and forced me through some bullshit dinner party. Haven’t I done enough? I don’t deserve this shit. Just let me go already.”