“Sofía,” he utters, shutting the door behind him. I watch him turn the lock, which makes my body tremble with anxiety. “We need to talk, little one.” His voice is controlled, too even and cold, which makes me wonder what I’m about to experience. Will he torture me? I have no idea what I’ve done, but clearly, he’s not happy about something.
He doesn’t come near me. Instead, Victor stands at the window, his tall frame almost covering the light that’s slowly fading on the horizon. His hands are twined behind his back, and I take in the beauty of the Devil as he stands looking out over his kingdom. The golden glow makes him seem ethereal, but I know there’s nothing angelic about this man. Perhaps a dark angel, yes.
“Get off the bed,” he says in a chilly tone.
I move quickly, not wanting to anger him further. When I’m standing a few inches from him, he finally turns to regard me. He reaches for me, his fingers tangling in my long dark hair, and tugs my head back harshly, causing me to whimper in agony.
He doesn’t seem fazed by my pain. He pulls me closer, until I’m practically standing on his shoes. I can feel the cool leather beneath my bare feet. His hand tightens, causing the strands to sting my scalp, drawing another yelp from my lips.
His mouth tilts at the sound. “So pretty when you cry. Do you know how hard my cock gets when you whimper and moan like that?”
“You’re hurting me.”
“I know, juguete,” he grins. And damn him because it only makes him more handsome. “You see, I don’t like liars.” He doesn’t relent on his hold as he tells me this. If anything, he only grips me harder, drawing more pained moans from me. “They make me angry, and when I’m angry, I do things that you wouldn’t like.”
“I don’t know—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Sofía,” his harsh grunt sends vibrations through me from head to toe and back again. I can’t breathe, he’s far too close to me, invading my space. He’s all I see. Victor’s looming frame dwarfs mine, and I know there’s no way I can fight this man off.
A memory slams into me of my father teaching me to fight off an attacker. And in that moment, I grin, before lifting my knee and finding his crotch, feeling the contact the moment he doubles over.
I make a run for it. I don’t know where I’m going, but I have to try. My heart thuds painfully against my ribs, threatening to fight its way through my chest. When I reach the door, my mind is thundering with how to get out of this house. Twisting the lock, my hand is on the doorknob when I feel two large hands grip my arms.
Pushing me against the wood, he presses me against the surface with his heavy body. The heat of him almost comforts me until I remember who’s behind me. Shoving my hands against the door, I attempt to push away, but Victor is too strong.
His hand finds my throat, and his fingers wrap around the column of my neck while his free hand grips my hip, his fingers digging into the flesh, causing me to cry out in pain. When he rolls his hips, I feel the hard-on pressing against my ass.
Gasping, I attempt another shove, but I’m only tiring myself out. I can’t do this. Tears sting my eyes as I give up the fight and allow him to take control.
“You know, I would’ve believed you if you’d told me you didn’t know anything, but then you went and fought me.” His voice whispers along my cheek, the heat of his breath causing my skin to dot in goose bumps. “But what you don’t know, juguete, is that I like when you fight. It makes me want to pin you down and fuck some sense into you.”
“Fuck you, Victor Cordero,” I spit out, not sure where I’m getting the confidence from, but if he wants to kill me, I wish he’d just get it over with.
He spins me around to face him. His gold eyes blaze like the afternoon sun outside the window. Warm, yet cold and dangerous at the same time. My mouth falls open when he pins me to the door with his hand. I don’t fight, I don’t flail, and I recognize the frustration in his gaze.
“What? You don’t like a limp rag doll?” I challenge him easily, knowing I’ve caught onto what he really wants from me. He may not have said it, but it’s written all over his handsome face. What the fuck, Sofía?
“Tonight, you’ll give me everything I want.”
“And what do you want?”
His thumb runs along the smooth flesh of my neck, his gaze following the path up and down. He revels in the erratic pulse that’s thrumming wildly along the slender column. It’s my most dangerous part—my heart. It’s broken, it’s unstable, and it could kill me at any moment. Yet, he wants it.