Page 32 of Shai

The words “bitch” and “pussy,” as well as his graphic description jolted me from the strange stupor I’d fallen into. I pushed myself away from him, dislodging his hands from my body and whirling to face him, to face the smirk on his lips, and the fact that he was still fully dressed while my jacket hung from one shoulder, my shirt was open, and my trousers gaped open in an obscene fashion. If it wasn’t for the erection tenting his trousers, I could have been forgiven for thinking he’d been completely unmoved by what we’d been doing. We? Not we. It had been him. He’d been doing it. I just hadn’t resisted.

“You should fight me, Elijah. Stop me from doing that to you.”

What? Shai switched tack so fast that it left me dizzy. I was always trying to play catch-up, always trying to read between the lines and work out what was really going on in his head. The entire evening had been one mind fuck after another, the only part that probably hadn’t been planned by him was his mother’s impromptu visit. Unless that had been too. He couldn’t have planned the words that came out of her mouth. He could have capitalized on them, though.

“Unless you want me to fuck you. Is that it? If so, take your clothes off,

and spread them for me. Give me that pussy willingly. I’ll fuck you as many times as you want me to. Perhaps you want me to bring my men in here. Line them up so they can fuck you too. See how many loads you can take.”

That last suggestion had my stomach in my throat. “Fuck you.” Shai’s lips curved into a smile. “Ah, there he is, the spirited Elijah I love

to see. I was beginning to wonder where he’d gone. I thought that maybe you’d gone soft. Do you feel sorry for me? Is that it? Does your sympathy extend far enough to let me do anything I want to you? Where’s your limit? You didn’t seem too excited about the prospect of me sharing you with my men.” He took a step toward the door. “I’ll get Taylor. How many more do you want? Four? Six? Ten? Shall I bring them all in here?”

My gaze flicked toward the table. The dishes that Gustav had never

collected were still there, including the knife I hadn’t used. I lunged toward the table and grabbed it before Shai realized my intention. I swung around to face him, holding it in front of me. It wasn’t a particularly sharp knife, but it was better than nothing. “Try it, you sick bastard.”

Shai’s smile grew wider. “Sick bastard! But of course, I am. What else

could I be when my mother used to visit my bedroom every night and use my body?” He kept his gaze fixed on me as his fingers dropped to the buttons on his jacket, undoing them without looking down. Once they were undone, he shrugged out of it, draping it across the back of a chair before setting to work on his shirt, that too joining his jacket. I found myself faced with the familiar snarling face of the cobra. “No men then, just us.”

His words should have made me feel better. They didn’t. He’d goaded

me way beyond that point. I lifted the knife higher as he took a step toward me, my knuckles white around its handle. “Don’t come any closer.”

Shai halted, the smile still gracing his features, as if this whole situation

was nothing more than an amusing distraction. “Where are you going to cut me? Have you given any thought to that? Perhaps you’d like to remove my cock so I won’t be capable of sticking it anywhere. Not sure that knife is sharp enough, but you could give it a try if you can get close enough.” He gave a lazy thrust of his hips, the action bringing attention to the erection still tenting the fabric. “Give me what you’ve got. Don’t hold back.”

Cold fury filled every pore of my body. I made a mad slash at him, one

that he easily avoided, the bark of laughter that slipped from his lips only inflaming me more. My tongue found the cut in my lips, the burst of pain reminding me how stupid I’d been to think that this wouldn’t end in violence. Shai laughed again, provoking me into taking another uncoordinated swipe at him. I was going to kill him, and then I was going to dance on his corpse. We did a circuit of the room like that, Shai staying close enough to give me hope of landing a hit, but far enough away that all my attempts came to naught. The longer we kept the strange dance up, the more my arm started to tire.

“Come on, Elijah. Try harder. You must be able to do better than that.”

The sad thing is he was right. I should be doing better. I’d been in enough knife fights to know that I was letting anger get the better of me. All anger did was cloud the senses and prevent clear thought and clear strategy. If I wanted to think I needed to calm down. I pulled in a lungful of oxygen, a hint of the cologne that Shai had provided accompanying it. He’d stage managed everything about this evening from my clothes to my reactions. I was nothing but a puppet on a string to him.

I gave another experimental stab of the knife in Shai’s direction, but this time I didn’t follow through on it, pulling my arm back instead, and then shadowing Shai’s step back as I sliced the knife across in a wide arc. Shai’s expression changed to one of surprise, his hand dropping to cover his side. He lifted his hand slowly, a wide scratch marring his abdomen where the knife had made contact. We both stared at the thin line of blood oozing out. Fuck! Now I was really in trouble.

Shai lifted his head, his brown eyes finding mine. “Very good, Elijah. You’re full of surprises, but it’s time to drop the knife now.”

I shook my head. Not fucking likely. That would leave me without a weapon. Shai’s hand darted out, his fingers fastening on the wrist holding the knife and squeezing so hard that I cried out in pain. His hand was like a vise, my bones crushed beneath its grip.

“Drop it.”

I hung on for dear life, attempting to prize his fingers away from my wrist with my other hand. But it was like trying to loosen a steel cable. Shai squeezed harder, a bolt of pain shooting through my entire arm.

I dropped the knife.

Shai wasted no time in hooking his leg behind mine and throwing me off balance. We both tumbled to the floor, the breath knocked out of me as we landed. Shai tugged at my clothes, his goal seeming to be to divest me of them in record time, the ripping fabric a loud and ominous portent as I struggled. Once he’d gotten rid of the jacket, shirt, and tie, he started on my lower half. He rolled me onto my front, my attention snagged by the discarded knife lying only a foot or so away.

I went still, feigning cooperation, and then as soon as he relaxed his

grip, I made a lunge for the knife. I got as far as my fingers grazing the handle before Shai pulled me back, his hands making short work of the rest of my clothes until I was naked.

He kept his knee in the center of my back, the noises from behind

telling me in no uncertain terms that he was undoing his belt. I knew what came next, the irony that I’d actually considered wanting this earlier not passing me by. I turned my head to the side so that he could hear me when I spoke. “You could have had me without all of this.” The words came out sounding far more pathetic than I’d meant them to be.