AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I freeze, my heart pounding in my ears.
Too late. I’d taken too long.
Damian blinks at me, as if not believing what he’s seeing. His eyes scan the bedroom, taking in the stripped bed and me perched on the window sill. His face screws up with rage.
“Going somewhere?” Damian asks, taking a menacing step into the room.
I open my mouth, but no words come out. I can only cling to the window frame, trembling, as he advances.
In a blind panic, I fling my other leg over the ledge, desperately scrambling for purchase on the makeshift rope. But Damian moves with startling speed, closing the distance in four strides. He closes his hands on my wrists, forcefully wrenching me back into the bedroom.
I fall onto the mattress, gasping as the air leaves my body. Before I can take another breath, I’m pinned against the wall, Damian’s body pressed against mine to ensure I can’t escape, my arms up by my head, his hands wrapped around my wrists.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Damian roars, his face mere inches from mine. “Did you really think you could escape me?”
I should be terrified by his proximity and anger, but I find myself overwhelmed by my attraction to him. It doesn’t help that he looks unbelievably handsome right now. The suit he’s wearing is undeniably expensive and fits him like a glove, hugging his broad shoulders and tapering down to accent his narrow hips and waist.
“Answer my fucking question, Alexis,” he hisses into my ear, causing me to shiver. Goosebumps erupt onto my flesh.
“Yes, I thought I could escape,” I whisper, my head tilted back to expose my throat.
Damian growls, and goddamn, the sound is so unbelievably sexy. “I should tie you up to the bed using that fucking rope ladder of yours.”
Why does that thrill me so much? My cheeks grow hot as unrequested thoughts of what Damian could do to me while I am tied up flicker through my mind.
Even in Damian’s rage and anger, I notice he’s careful not to aggravate any of the injuries Mark left. Although I’m pressed against the wall, my back doesn't hurt and he’s taking care to not touch my bruised cheek.
He pulls back slightly, his smoldering gaze locking onto mine, and all coherent thoughts sputter to a halt.
“Are you going to run again?” he asks, his voice a whispered caress.
I shake my head. “N–No.”
What if I did run? Would he catch me? What would he do to me? My pulse quickens at the thought as the damp heat pooling between my thighs becomes a visceral, instant ache. I want to cross my legs and squirm, but I don’t want to draw attention to my arousal.
Damian steps back just slightly and lets go of my wrists, watching as they fall limply to my sides. His eyes never leave mine as he shrugs off his suit jacket and tosses it onto the bed. My jaw nearly drops as I watch his hands work at his collar, stripping off his silk tie with one easy pull before undoing the top button of his crisp white shirt.
That tantalizing glimpse of tanned, taut skin and the promise of lean muscle beneath sends an electric jolt of pure yearning zinging through my veins.
This is worse than torture. My body is hyper-aware of his presence. Who cares if he’s a member of the Mafia? Who cares that he’s probably murdered and destroyed countless lives? All rational thought has left me, leaving me with an overwhelming need for him.
Damian’s gaze slowly rakes over me, leaving a scorching trail in its wake, and I can’t deny the dizzying effect of being pinned under that intense stare. Those intense eyes miss nothing, taking in every curve, every breath, and every emotion probably playing across my face.
He leans in. “Where did you learn to tie a rope like that?” he growls against the hammering pulse of my throat, his stubble deliciously rough against my oversensitive skin.
I swallow, my core clenching again with wanting. “I–I was taught a long time ago,” I whisper.
“By whom?”
I’m surprised I even remember my name at this point. “Some man I worked with. He was an old Navy guy.”
Damian moves in closer again, and his body is mere inches from mine. I fight the moan trying to work its way out of my body, resisting the urge to close my eyes and tip my head back. I can feel his warm breath on my face and the smell of his cologne as he leans in. His lips are so tantalizingly close, I think he’s about to kiss me.
My heart pounds in anticipation, my lips parting slightly as I angle my head. But instead of kissing me, Damian pauses, his face hovering near mine.
“You haven’t been honest with me, Alexis Hartley,” he hisses. “Why the fuck does The Brotherhood want you so badly?”
7
