Page 41 of Possessive Mr. Pen

“Connor, what’s wro—”

I capture her lips with mine to silence her, still trapped between past and present, and curl my hands into her silky hair to hold her still for my desperate kiss.She pulls at my arms, but I’m too far gone.I need more.

She signed the contract.She’s mine.

She can’t be here.They’ll kill her too.

I devour her.She struggles.I grind my front against hers, pinning her against the safety of the wall, and shake in fear, fury, and hunger.

She bites my tongue.Hard.

The taste of pennies fills my mouth.I rip my face away and spit blood onto the floor.

She shoves my stomach and launches toward the door.I grab her wrist even as I double over and wretch from pain.

“I’m sorry.You left me.They were coming.”

I don’t recognize the masculine voice.Hilary stops trying to break my grip on her wrist and squats beside me.

“Who was coming?”

I shudder and groan as the vibrations tear through my battered organs.

Hilary’s silky soft hands bracket my face and pull my eyes to hers.

Reality slams into me.The last few moments replay like acid in my mind.

I close my eyes in shame and accept the agony rolling through my body.From my ragged breathing to the horrid taste in my mouth, I deserve every ounce of pain and discomfort.

“Connor, look at me,” Hilary coaxes.

The sweet tone of her voice rolls down my spine like warm honey.Self-hatred turns my bones brittle.

“Don’t comfort me.I—”

She pinches my bottom lip and tugs.I open my eyes in alarm and meet hers.

“There, I hurt you, too.Let’s go.We’ll talk later.”

I open my mouth to refuse, but her swollen lips and the paleness underlying her natural olive complexion stills my bitten tongue.

She helps me to my feet and tries to support me, but I weave our fingers together and pin her arm between mine and my side.

Guilt gnaws at my insides, but I can’t push her away.I need her.

Hilary Winthrop will soon carry my last name, but she’s carried my broken and jaded heart ever since she saved me twenty-four years ago.

I need her.She’s mine.My gladiator goddess.My warrior queen.

Mine.

Chapter 11

Hilary Winthrop

My insides shake.I long to run as fast and far away as possible, but I don the mask of survival and hold Connor’s hand with the same steady pressure as before.

I haven’t been that terrified of a man since I ran away from my last foster family at eleven years old.Even when I was living on the streets in my teens, I never found myself trapped in a small room with no escape as a monster loomed over me.