Merciless Love: A Dark Romance(18)
I didn't know the first thing about using weapons on a real person. But now that his true nature was right in front of me, so dark it was crystal clear, I had to try. The nuts I'd lived with all my life kept me from learning, but that was over.
The steely stare he shot at me just before he left couldn't be misinterpreted. You'd better start learning, girl, and fast. Grow the hell up or die.
Strange that I heard the warning in his voice. Evan nodded once, and then turned smartly, slamming the door behind him.
He was gone. I crashed forward on the bed, wondering if this whole thing was really one long nightmare. It wasn't until the evening sun slunk behind the horizon and dashed my room in blackness that I got up.
I didn't bother with the lamp. I flew to the floor, hurled myself as far as I could reach beneath the bed. Not far enough, even if there was something he'd missed. My hand wouldn't fit more than a few inches beneath the narrow crevice.
“Damn it!” I finally had good reason to curse without feeling guilty about it. “Why? Why why why?”
All the attacks and wrestling around, first with Izzy and then with Evan, left my cuts stretched and burning. I didn't care. The pain throbbed insistently when I stood up again.
I headed straight for the door and pushed with all my might. Then I wrapped both hands around the knob, pivoted my bare feet on the edge, and jerked frantically, trying to rattle it open. When that didn't work, I beat it with my fists, crying and screaming to someone or something who would hear.
Anyone. Anything. Anywhere.
Something except the man who'd just proven I was a stupid judge of character. He was a walking mistake, a cruel icon of my ignorance in rock hard muscle and molten black eyes.
Jesus, I hadn't hallucinated those evil tattoos after all. If I saw him shirtless again, I was sure they'd be there, monstrous and threatening perversions inked on his manly canvass.
I screamed and slapped the door until the pain in my body burned itself out. I wasn't even crying anymore when I slumped to the floor, still pawing at it.
I was beaten.
There are no monsters. The Prophet's verse came over and over and over. There are no monsters. There are no –
Who the hell was I kidding, if not myself?
I'd been raised by monsters, and thinking they were just men brought me no comfort then. And now, with the worst one yet prowling around in this dungeon of a house, I realized everything that had ever brought me knowledge or comfort was a horrible rotten lie.
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More Erotic Romance by Nicole Snow on Amazon
KEPT WOMEN: TWO FERTILE SUBMISSIVE STORIES
SUBMISSIVE'S FOLLY (SEDUCED AND RAVAGED)
SUBMISSIVE'S EDUCATION
SUBMISSIVE'S HARD DISCOVERY
HER STRICT NEIGHBOR
SOLDIER'S STRICT ORDERS
COWBOY'S STRICT COMMANDS
RUSTLING UP A BRIDE: RANCHER'S PREGNANT CURVES
FIGHT FOR HER HEART
BIG BAD DARE: TATTOOS AND SUBMISSION
OUTLAW KIND OF LOVE
NOMAD KIND OF LOVE
SAVAGE KIND OF LOVE
SEXY SAMPLES: SAVAGE KIND OF LOVE
I: Three Nights (Saffron)
They say it only takes one night to change a woman's life. For me, it was three, each more savage than the last.
Deep in the darkness, forced to wrestle with dreams and desires and nightmares, a girl finds out what's really important really damned fast. And when it's all over, there's no more doubt.
Scars don't lie, and neither do hearts.
Three sunrises later, I knew I'd never know uncertainty again.
Three nights. Three vicious, unforgettable, pitch black collisions with life and death, love and hate. Three nights to mold me into what I was always meant to be.
I still think about the last one the most.
Starting with the way the sick, soulless bastard held the knife to my throat, digging in so deep he drew blood. His words echoed like a lion's growl in my ear. Distant and distorted by fear, but unmistakably dangerous.
“I see you've made your choice, baby doll. If you're not gonna tell us what we need to know about your boyfriend and his Prairie Pussies, then I guess we'll do things the hard way.” He paused, his stained teeth shaping a smile. “Lucky for you I like it hard.”
“Kill me now. You're a dead man either way,” I growled.
The knife relaxed its deadly pressure on my throat. His other hand tangled itself deeper in my hair and jerked, twisting my face to his, just the right position for a grotesque kiss.