Shattered King(16)

His gaze searched mine. “Not a fucking chance. I don’t trust you. I don’t believe one word that comes out of your lying, deceitful mouth. You put on a good performance, I’ll give you that. But you don’t leave this cabin until you give me what I want.”

The fake calm evaporated and I screamed. Lifted my head, my face an inch from his, and screamed my head off.

He smiled. “Like I said, you can scream all you want.”

Hunter

Lulu screamed, her small, soft, round body shaking beneath me.

The woman was freaking out, but I had no idea what she was talking about. She also wasn’t going to fill me in, that much was clear, and I doubted I could force it out of her. I frowned down at her then shoved the unwelcome concern building inside me down deep and slammed the door. Lulu was a goddamn pathological liar and this was just another act, her trying to get me to let her go.

One thing I did know for sure, though, was that she couldn’t hide from me—she was scared for her life.

Yeah, I’d chained her up, kidnapped her, but the fact that she thought I was capable of physically hurting her, got to me a fuck of a lot more than it should have. Jesus, she’d never known me at all. Maybe it had been Pierce’s idea all along, us hooking up. Maybe he’d planned it from the beginning. Maybe Lulu had let me fuck her, pretended to love me, all at her stepfather’s say-so.

Another shot of rage fired through my veins.

She had the sweet and innocent bit down, had played me, set me up. I’d followed her around by the dick for two fucking years, believed she was the woman for me. The only woman. And it beyond pissed me off that all I could think was how fucking beautiful she still was. How smooth her skin looked. How her gray eyes shone, how the flecks of blue that you could only see when you were up close looked like motherfucking sapphires. And then there was that gorgeous red hair of hers, so damn thick. I hated myself for how desperately I wanted to shove my fingers deep in all that warmth and make her beg me for forgiveness. For her to tell me I had it all wrong.

Fucking idiot.

She started struggling again, her curves crushed against my front, the softness between her thighs against my hard cock.

“Please. Please, Hunter.”

My anger shot higher. Hearing her say my name in that tone, from that traitorous mouth, did something to me, made me feel things I did not want to fucking feel.

“I love it when you beg, Lulu. Always have,” I taunted.

She screamed again, making my ears ring.

“If you don’t stop with the screaming, I’ll gag you.”

She was panting, tits rubbing against my chest with every indrawn breath. I wanted to strangle her for making me feel this way. I also wanted to tear her shorts off and fuck her into the couch.

“Please,” she whispered again.

I got in her face. “Bitch, you must think I’m stupid.”

She bit her lip and turned away. I should get off her, get the hell away, but right then I couldn’t make myself move. She’d always felt so damn good under me. Perfect. Fucking her had been my obsession. Just like this. Her beneath me, taking what I gave her. She’d loved it. Loved every fucking minute. She used to look at me like I owned the world, like she would die without me, and after the shit my brother and I had been through growing up, I’d needed that.

I hissed out a breath. Lies. All of it.

I stared down at her, the way her plump lower lip puffed out around her white teeth, the way her cheeks were flushed and pink. Her skin smooth, flawless. I’d always been fascinated by her skin. It was like that everywhere. I used to run my hands over her naked body for hours, tasting her, kissing her until she was squirming and dripping wet. She’d filled out a little. I could feel it. More tits and ass, belly softer.

My gaze ran over her face. Blood had dried on her forehead. I hadn’t meant to hurt her, but when I’d seen her, I’d lost it. It was like the past three years never happened. The word mine had been on a constant loop in my head as I’d strode toward her. That had freaked me the hell out, and I’d been too rough. She wasn’t mine, not anymore. I didn’t fucking want her. Yeah, I still wanted to fuck her, but I’d never feel about her the way I once had.

She twisted back, looking up at me, eyes soft, searching. “Can I get up, please?”

Fuck. I ignored the way her plea made my chest squeeze and scowled down at her. “You try to run, I’ll lock you back in the bathroom.”

I climbed up, and she scrambled off the couch. Taking her arm, I led her to the kitchen table and pushed her into one of the chairs. Her wrists were looking a little raw from all her struggling, so I unlatched the cuff and moved it to her ankle, attaching the other end to the wooden table leg.