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I took his invitation, reaching my hands toward his face, nails searching for the soft orbs of his eyeballs.
He chuckled darkly, easily gathering my wrists in his free hand and pinning them to the mattress above my head. Tightening his fingers around my throat, he lowered his face toward mine. All his weight shifted over my upper body, putting more pressure on my throat, making my breath catch and constrict. “Where’s my money, baby?”
Even though I wanted to, I couldn’t look away. “I don’t have it,” I rasped. “Please, I need more time.”
His black eyes swallowed more darkness. “You’ve run out of time.” He released the hand from my throat and ran it down between my breasts. He flicked at one of my nipples through my shirt, and the flesh hardened at his touch. He grinned. “Reaver, where’s your knife?”
My attention darted to the side, straining to see the hulking silent man standing in the corner. His dark eyes were fixed on my face, the weight of them penetrating me right down to my soul.
Maddox continued, “You have got to see Alex’s tits. Best I’ve ever slid my dick between.”
Reaver’s expression didn’t change as he pulled out a knife and handed it to Maddox, handle first. Struggling against his hold, I tried to stop the violation, but Maddox only tightened his fingers around my wrists.
The blade was cold against my skin as he slid it under my shirt and between my breasts. The fabric gave way to the sharpened edge, cold air kissing my stomach and chest. Maddox released his grip on my wrists. They stayed above my head—paralyzed with fear—when he slid the tip of the blade around each breast, then the areolas, before finally scraping the sharpened point across my puckered nipples.
Maddox’s expression was slack as he moved the knife across my skin. “I was going to leave without violating you, Alex. I really was. But now that I’ve seen these tits again…” His gaze sharpened on my face. “Now that I can smell your fear again, I don’t think I could walk away.”
Licking my dry lips, I begged in a whisper, “Please don’t.”
“Mmm,” he crooned. “I like it when you beg so pretty.” Sliding the knife up my torso and holding it against my throat, he released his already-hard cock from his pants, stroking his length casually. Leaning forward, his jaw and throat worked, gathering saliva in his mouth. He spat on my chest, using the tip of his cock to spread the moisture between my breasts.
“Squeeze those pretty tits together, baby.”
When I didn’t comply, he pressed the knife in a little harder.
“Don’t make me ask again.”
With the bitter taste of hate burning on the tip of my tongue, I brought my hands up to cup my breasts, pushing them together.
“That’s right,” he said, his eyes burning with dark lust. Discarding the knife with a casual flick of his wrist, he moved up my body, sliding his dick into the gap beneath my hands, thrusting into the warm wet space I’d created for him with agroan. In a matter of moments, I was taken back to more than a year ago. Back to the last time I was at this man’s mercy, but hadn’t yet had the strength to walk away. Tilting my head back, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to picture being somewhere else—anywhere else.
There was a sharp pinch against the side of my neck, and my eyes flew open to find Reaver standing over me. Holding a knife against my skin, his dark gaze was on the point where he’d blooded me. The bulge in his pants was unmistakable. Seeing me like this turned him on, and it made my already-tight stomach revolt.
“Reaver likes his women to bleed while he fucks them,” Maddox explained, moving in long, slow thrusts, eyes sparkling with humor. “Maybe I’ll let him take you after I’ve finished with you.”
Shifting my attention back to Reaver, I held his eye, willing him to see how much I hated him for doing this, for helping. All I got in return was a flat, empty stare—a shark’s stare.
With an impatient sound, Maddox shoved my hands out of the way, replacing them with his own rough ones, cupping my breasts aggressively.
“Yes, baby,” he groaned out, thumbing my nipples, making them sharpen against his palms. It was an involuntary reaction, but one that he took to mean I was enjoying myself. He looked down, pupils dilating at the sight of his cock pushing through the top of my cleavage.
“Spit on it,” he growled.
I had no interest in prolonging this violation, so I gathered what I could from my dry mouth and spat on Maddox’s dick the next time it appeared. He groaned with satisfaction, thrusting harder.
“Lick it,” he ordered this time, staring into my eyes, seeing my self-respect curling away from him like it always did. “Lick my dick like you used to.”
All those years ago, those men may have taken my innocence away, but Maddox had stripped me of my identity. I’d devolved into nothing but a fucktoy for him. At the time, that was what I wanted. I didn’t want to be Talon La Croix’s daughter. I wanted to be anyone else, but it was hard to step out of my father’s shadow. It was hard to break free of the club’s grasp. I had done it, though, only to fall back under the control of another man. One who relished taking from me and never gave anything back other than cruelty and humiliation. One who broke me.
“Do as I ask, Alex,” he commanded, his voice growing stern.
I knew what came next.
The threat.
Men like him always threatened when they couldn’t get what they wanted.
“Or when I’m done here, I’ll let Reaver do to you what he’s been fantasizing about since he first laid eyes on you. If you thought I was rough, you have no idea what he’s capable of. That knife point against your throat is only the beginning.”
