I heave in a breath and then scream as Vince’s body slams into mine, knocking me to the ground. His large body pins me down. His hips spread my legs apart and his knees land on my thighs, pushing my body open and forcing me to stay beneath him. He pins my wrists above my head with one hand, and his other hand wraps around my throat. I let out a scream, but he doesn’t put any pressure on my throat. Instead, he's just merely gripping it. I try to buck him off of me, but it’s hopeless.
He growls into my ear. “You can’t fucking listen, can you?” I close my eyes and whimper.
“I don’t want to die.” My murmur is barely more than a whisper.
“You’re not fucking acting like it.” His hand tightens on my throat, and his hips push harder into mine.
For a moment my eyes flash to an image of him on top of me, pounding into me, ruthlessly rutting between my legs. My body heats at the thought. I can see us just like this. I turn my head to the side and refuse to think about it. My body flames with need, but I deny it. I’m so ashamed. So confused.
“You need to fucking listen to me.” He clenches his teeth and slowly lets go of my wrists. I don’t move. I stay as still as possible. He grips my chin and forces me to look at him, but I keep my eyes closed. He squeezes tighter and I instinctively open my eyes. His sharp, dark gaze stares back at me.
“Don’t fight me,” he commands. “You will obey me.” His words send another shot of arousal through me, but thankfully he’s already on his feet and pulling my nearly limp body up onto his. He slings me over his shoulder to carry me away like some kind of primitive caveman.
I don’t know what to think. I don’t understand why I feel this way.
I don’t have a choice in any of this.
Chapter 6: Vince
I can’t believe she fucking ran. My blunt fingernails dig into a tender part of her waist as I drag her body back to the house, with my hand gripping her hip. She’s not walking fast enough, not making this easy, but at least she’s not fighting.
“That wasn’t a smart thing for you to do, sweetheart,” I mumble under my breath. I’m pissed off. I’m really fucking pissed off. I’m trying to help this girl. I’m going out of my way and risking my own ass for hers. If she got out… My blood runs cold thinking what would happen. For a split second, the choice is obvious. I can’t allow it to happen. There’s only one way to make sure she never talks. I don’t trust that she got a high enough dose. And neither will the familia.
I shake my head and pull her closer to me. “Walk with me, Elle. Stop making this so fucking hard.” My voice reflects my anger. She quickens her pace and I take a look at her as we near the porch. Her face is red from panting, her cheeks stained with tears. Her shirt’s ripped from falling down earlier, and there are scrapes on her knees.
My heart sinks in my chest. I’m such a fucking asshole for being angry with her. I’d run, if I were in her shoes. First chance I got, I’d fucking bolt. How can I blame her? She has no idea what’s going on. Other than the fact that I’m not letting her go, and that some people in the familia want her dead.
I look down at her feet. She lost one shoe somewhere back there, and her bare foot is dirty and bleeding from running through the forest. My poor sweetheart. I stop at the door and sigh. “Are you going to listen to me?”
Her wide, frightened eyes dart to mine. She slowly nods her head. She’s fucking lying. I can see it written on her face. “Don’t make me chase after you again, sweetheart.” I move my hand up to the nape of her neck and fist her hair. I pull slightly, which gets me a small whimper, and lean down to let my lips barely touch her ear. “Next time I won’t be nearly as nice.” I whisper my threat and let my hot breath send a shiver down her body. I let go of her and open the door with my back to her, giving her the chance to fucking defy me. Again.
The sound of her heavy, shaky exhale make my chest hurt. I feel like such a fucking asshole. But what the hell am I supposed to do? It’ll be better tomorrow. As long as she doesn’t remember what she witnessed earlier at the bistro, everything will be better. If she remembers though, I’m fucked. She can’t remember any of this shit. And that reminds me about the tablets in my pocket.
I unlock the door and walk in, holding the door open for her. She sways slightly on her feet and looks behind her. A low growl vibrates through my chest, making her head snap back around as she looks at me with wide eyes.
“Come on in, sweetheart.” I can’t help my narrowed eyes and threatening stare, but at least my voice isn’t completely menacing. She swallows loudly and slowly walks in. I can see she’s tired. She’s fighting this shit, even though it should’ve knocked her on her ass. That makes me worry even more. She walks in slowly and at an angle. She keeps her eyes on me but keeps her distance, staying more than an arm’s reach away.