Another step from him. Not really a step even, more like a prowl.
I kicked off my heels, ready to take off. A quick scan of my surroundings said I wouldn’t get far without him catching me, which didn’t matter. I wanted him to catch me. Just…I couldn’t stand still anymore, couldn’t stand frozen in his trap while the panic and the fear and the lust and desire overwhelmed me. Couldn’t stand there waiting for him to take me. I needed to move.
So I ran.
Adrenaline surged through my veins as I took off around the coffee table and slipped past the sofa. He was right behind me as I darted across the open space. There were two routes out of the main room—one that seemed to lead to the kitchen and the other that went up to the second level. I headed toward the stairs.
He followed practically on my heels as I rounded the corner after the first flight. He lunged for me then, and his hand grabbed my hip sending a thrill through me, and I fell.
He had me, but I tried to pull away, my fingers clawing at the carpet of the step above me. I couldn’t get a good grip, and his other arm came around my waist, twisting me to my back as he dragged me down two stairs so that he could hold me beneath him.
“You can’t run from me,” he said cruelly, pinning my hands above my head.
“Fuck you,” I spat. I didn’t know how I was so certain that he knew this was a game, but I was. Just as I was certain that he knew that part of it was real too.
“Don’t worry, you will.”
With one knee bent on the stair next to me, he held my wrists with just one of his hands so that he could start pushing my dress up.
My pussy throbbed with anticipation. He was so close to touching me there, and it couldn’t come fast enough.
But this game required that I give it my best fight.
I wrestled again, just like I had in college when we’d sparred in his office. This time I tried to go down, but he grabbed my hair and yanked so hard I cried out as I fell forcefully back on the stairs.
Automatically his hand came down to cover my mouth. Clamped over it tightly. Exactly the same way Theo had covered my mouth when he’d tried to rape me.
The physical recollection of Theo’s attack was so vivid, so close to the surface of my mind, that it was hard to differentiate between Donovan and the memory. My heart raced like I was actually being raped, my throat tightened, but everywhere we touched I was on fire, burning with need and arousal. My panties were soaked. My nipples were painfully erect.
Donovan stilled, and I worried that he’d stop. Especially when he lowered his hand from my mouth. I was already preparing all the things to say to get him to go on.
“How much do you want me to hurt you?” he asked.
God, I almost came. He knew. Knew that this was edgy, that this brought up difficult memories, but he knew I still wanted to play.
“Do you want me to tell you to stop?” I’d never tell him to stop. I was sure I’d take whatever he wanted to give me.
He lowered himself over me so that I could feel his erection, hot and hard against my pelvis. “I want you to beg me to stop.”
A shiver ran down my body.
“Safe word, then.” I’d never used a safe word. Never even thought about safe words. In all my fantasies, they’d never been necessary, and it wasn’t like I’d ever thought I’d play these games for real.
I knew the concept though. I just needed to pick a word—any word—the first that came to mind, that wouldn’t normally come up in a sexual situation. But, put on the spot, it was weird what things my brain came up with. Maybe it was because the scene brought up so much from the past. Maybe that’s why my mind finally settled on what it did.
“MADAR,” I said, firmly.
His jaw flexed, but other than that slight change of expression, he didn’t move.
“Donovan?”
He stayed frozen. “Why did you choose that?”
Of course he didn’t know how the MADAR Foundation had taken away my Harvard scholarship. He might not have even ever heard of the foundation. He’d been born with wealth and privilege and didn’t need the services of such an organization.
There was no way I was going to explain right now. “It’s a long story. It’s the reason I couldn’t come back to Harvard. It’s a word that means ‘end’ for me.” All that mattered was that I wouldn’t say it without meaning to.
He continued to look down on me strangely, making no move to continue.
“Just. Go on.”
Still he didn’t move, as though he were lost in thought or busy analyzing my safe word choice.
I wriggled underneath him. “Please, Donovan!”
Abruptly he was in motion. He clamped his hand back over my mouth, harder and tighter than he did before. “If you can’t talk, you snap.” His tone was cruel and cold now. “Snap now to show me you understand, but as soon as you do, this starts. Got it?”
I didn’t even hesitate. I just snapped.
Immediately, he was back where we left off. He pushed his hand up under my dress, reaching up toward my pussy. I gripped my thighs together, trying to deny him access, but he managed to get where he wanted easily enough. Once he had the front panel of my panties in his fist, he twisted hard and pulled, causing the waistband of my thong to cut painfully into my back and then break. He tossed the ruined panties over his shoulder.
Holy shit.
It had been so primal and raw to witness, I’d stopped fighting for a moment, awestruck and turned on. But then I started fighting even harder, because as arousing as it was to see his strength, it was also exactly the right amount of frightening.
I kicked. I bucked. I twisted and scratched. All my squirming only helped him—my dress gathered up around my waist, baring my pussy to him completely. His eyes glinted in the dimly lit stairway, like an animal. Like all he could see was this target, this prize that wasn’t a being or a person at all but just a thing to dominate and fuck.
And in every way that it was vile and wrong, I loved it. In every way that it meant I was sick and shameful, I embraced it.
I made one last attempt at escape when he loosened his grip to undo his pants. But I only managed to scoot up one stair before he pounced on me with his entire body. I’d have bruises in the morning, I was sure. Marks I welcomed and longed for. The next time he went to work his zipper down, he was smarter. He put his knee on my chest, pinning me down. It hurt. I couldn’t breathe. I felt lightheaded like I’d pass out.
As soon as he moved his knee off of me, I sucked in air in desperate gulps. But I didn’t have long to recover. His cock was out now—massive and threatening—and I felt a sudden flash of the fear I sometimes felt in my nightmares, the ones where Donovan didn’t stop my assault, and I was forced to face Theo’s terrible excuse for a dick. Those were the worst dreams. The ones that woke me in a cold sweat. The ones that I had to erase with fantasies of Donovan fucking me and claiming me instead.
Just like he was about to do now.