Page 21 of Shattered King

Lying in here all day, hiding, wasn’t an option. He’d come back through that door sooner or later. I pulled myself into a sitting position, and winced at the deep throb between my legs. My body wasn’t used to Hunter’s size anymore and I was feeling it.

I’d only been with three men in my life. With two of those men it had been consensual, and only one of them had meant something to me. Hunter, the only man I’d ever loved. Then, after I ran, I screwed some guy in a bathroom stall at a club. The guy vaguely reminded me of Hunter. In the darkness, I could almost convince myself it was him. I felt so alone, so goddamn alone. I let him fuck me, desperately grasping for something, some kind of connection. I’d lost it before he’d finished, freaked out completely and he’d taken off . . .

The third man, I refused to think about.

My hair fell forward and I brushed it back, wincing when I felt the bump on my head.

Jesus, I’d screwed everything up.

And now, the only man who’d ever meant anything to me had just taken away all I had left of him. The memory of us. The tenderness we’d once shared. I didn’t know how much more I could take.

The door flung open, and I jumped. Hunter stared at me from the open doorway, and I felt my face heat, humiliation burning its way up my neck. I’d let him have sex with me after he told me just how much he hated me. I was pathetic, and we both knew it.

He moved in, tagged my tank off the floor, and flung it at me. “Get dressed.”

I kept my eyes down and yanked it over my head, covering myself. He moved closer, kneeling in front of me so he could unlock the chain around my ankle. His fingers grazed my skin and gooseflesh lifted on my arms, down the back of my neck. I seriously needed help.

He looked up at me, eyes glittering, taking in my flushed face. “Don’t tell me you regret what happened last night, Lulu?”

His voice was mocking, dripping with sarcasm. I looked away, stared over his shoulder. “Momentary insanity.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think you’ve wanted what I gave you for a long time. You couldn’t get enough.” He chuckled, a sound that I was growing to loathe. “Fuck, you were so wet I had you all over me, the way you were grinding against me. Fucking desperate. I was embarrassed for you.”

Before I could stop myself, my hand shot out and I slapped him hard across the face, so hard a red mark appeared almost instantly. His eyes turned cold and hot at the same time and he hissed a breath through his teeth, visibly trying to control his temper. Grabbing my wrists roughly, he shoved me to my back, covering me, pressing me into the mattress, and got in my face.

He didn’t speak, just shoved my thighs wide and ground his hard cock between my legs. I gasped, sucking in a startled breath. Those eyes did not leave mine as he held me immobile beneath him, as one of his hands drifted down over my stomach. I froze as he cupped me over my shorts, horrified when my hips lifted, seeking more. I had no control over myself when he was near. My pride up and took a hike.

“You think I’m happy that you still do this to me?” He ground into me again. “After what you did, you think I’m celebrating the fact my dick still wants what’s under these shorts?”

Without a word, he undid them.

I started to struggle, a weak attempt that was halfhearted at best. He slid his hand inside.

My heart started hammering in my chest. I tried to pull my hands free, but he wasn’t having it. That’s when panic surged inside me, hard and fast.

His eyes flared as he dragged a thick finger through my drenched folds. Then he pushed it inside me, before dragging it back out, starting a slow, torturous pace that had my back arching off the bed. My body was no longer under my control. I was a mix of panic and uncontrollable lust. I had no choice but to keep my eyes on him. It was the only way to stay grounded, in the here and now, to stop my mind from taking me to a place I never allowed myself to go.

He had me close to the edge in a matter of seconds. My breathing got heavier, my skin hot and flushed the closer I got to release. My lips parted on a low moan, and just when I was hitting the peak, half a second from coming all over his finger, he took it away, leaving me cold. I sagged back with a whimper. His big body hovered above me, and I blinked up at him. He smirked and lifted the finger he’d just had inside me and held it in front of my face.

It was glistening, covered in me. Evidence of my complete and utter lack of self-control, not to mention self-respect, driving his point home.

I couldn’t move, held in place by his intense stare. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and then he slid that finger across my bottom lip. Mine parted with a gasp.

His nostrils flared and I felt his body freeze, every muscle going rock solid. Something flickered in his eyes, something I never thought I’d see again. He brought his face in closer to mine. I held still, too afraid to move, to breathe. He snarled suddenly, like he had no control over the action and it pissed him off. Then his tongue darted out, gliding over my lip, licking it clean.

Oh dear God.

My knees lifted higher, squeezing his hips involuntarily. He jerked, like I’d slapped him again, and it disappeared, the softness I’d briefly witnessed, vanishing without a trace. Then his weight was gone.

He stood between my still parted thighs, staring down at me. “Do your fucking shorts up. We need to get going.”

Shit. I scrambled off the bed and did what he said. I couldn’t look at him, mortification scalding my cheeks all over again. He was messing with me, taking great pleasure in making me feel worthless, and succeeding exceptionally well. I knew Hunter wouldn’t hit me—he’d never hit a woman. His father had had a different idea about that, and Hunter and his brother had hated their father because of it.

Since he obviously wasn’t going to kill me, and roughing me up was out of the question, messing with my head, my body, was apparently his chosen form of retribution.

I crossed my arms. “Where are you taking me?”

Hunter didn’t answer, just took my wrist and led me from the bedroom, his rough, warm skin giving me more of those tingles that started at the back of my neck. He carried on through the living room and out the front door. My heart did a nervous little flip. Was he taking me home? He locked up and took me to his car. He didn’t cuff me in this time, but locked the doors so I couldn’t get out.