Page 38 of Scars of Silk

I try to turn, but his fingers lift and grasp my chin.

“Don’t. This isn’t what this is about.”

“What is this? Because the way I see it you keep turning up at my house.”

“Just leave it, Dan.”

He’s between my legs, his knee rising until it’s pressed at the apex of my thighs. An instant fire builds down there and I squirm from his touch.

“You see, darling, a long time ago I didn’t pay attention to a girl that cried, who acted out, and we all know how that turned out.” His gaze is unflinching. “So if you don’t want me to ask questions then don’t turn up crying.”

His knee presses right between my legs. He knows what he’s doing as he applies more pressure and I groan a little, trapped under his hold.

I want to rub myself along him like a bloody cat.

Dipping his head, he sucks my earlobe into his mouth, his teeth clamping around the flesh, pulling with an incessant bite. My eyes all but roll back to see my brain.

“Talk.”

“No.” I shift against his knee. I'm undone by him. He played my power game and now I’m in his grasp.

His knee circles, pressing so hard the pleasure spears with pain. I groan, staring at the wall, at the door to the room, at anything that isn’t him watching me fall apart at his barest touch.

A wave of pleasure mingles with discomfort, but I take it all, losing myself as I shut my eyes and grind myself against him with no restraint at all.

“Why were you crying?”

“Why do you even care?”

“Who says I do?” His knee pushes harder and I can’t contain my moan. “Was it a bad date? Was he pot-bellied and balding?”

“No.”

More pressure. “Did he not make you want to do this?”

I can’t even think about Scott Harrington and the drunken leer on his face. I just want to come against Dan’s knee like a fucking dog. “No,” I gasp.

His leg stops moving, the pressure disappearing, and a low whimper escapes my lips. Ducking his head, he meets my gaze. “I’m used to secrets. I’ve lived with them, have seen them destroy everything.”

“I’m not her.” I try to push him off, but it’s useless. He’s a solid wall of a man.

“I never said you were, darling.” I almost hiss as he smirks. His eyes dance as I squirm against his hold. “I thought you liked it like this?” he whispers into my ear while his hand deftly catches hold of my wrists, lifting them above my head.

“Let me go.”

“Why? Because I want to know things about you? Because I’m interested in you?”

His words take some of the wind out of my sails. Is he interested in me? What does that even mean for someone to be interested in me and not interested in the Richards name? He doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know my family. Doesn’t know how rich we are, or what my dad will pay for me to settle with the right candidate.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer. With his gaze firmly locked on mine, he lifts up, shifting squarely between my legs. Slowly, he inches his cock deep inside me and with every single press he makes as he joins us together, I build with a wild need to lose myself. Arching my back, I stretch off the bed, pushing my arms further away, stretching myself to the absolute limit.

So many secrets.

So many damaged shards of who we are.

Two broken people. Him with his bruises, and me with my aching hollow in the place of my heart.