"So sweet," he breathed out, his voice as breathless and devoted as a prayer.
One hand squeezed her wrists harder, while the other trailed a whisper soft path down the length of her body. A quick swirl of his fingertip around her navel caused her abdominal muscles to clench at her sides. He smiled to see the reaction. And what a beautiful smile it was. It wasn't fair that evil could come wrapped in such a pretty package.
Dimples indented his cheeks, two points that caged a mouth that was full and soft. She hadn't noticed them before because Max had never shown her a side of him that was happy.
Not until the moment he had her in his bed.
Dipping down, his finger found the scalloped lace edge of her panties and slipped between the thin silk and her skin.
He looked up at her from beneath a fan of thick black lashes, conquest written in his eyes. "I remember that you're sweet here, too."
Remember?
How could he remember when this was the first time he'd assaulted her - in this way, at least - but then she remembered too. She'd been drugged, so hazy and lethargic that she'd vomited on herself and couldn't piece together the moments between retching and waking to find herself naked and displayed.
"You begged..."
Did he smile when he took her then as well, and was the smile just as beautiful?
She didn't have time to scour her memory for more details of that tryst because his rough finger slid down the line of wet and sensitive flesh, finding and circling a tight hole that hadn't been touched for so long.
Pleasure, like a mushroom cloud burst from her core, the smoke pushing up into her veins as a poison that dulled her senses and forced her eyes to roll back.
Shockwaves erupted across her skin, through her abdomen and along her limbs, small tremors a sharp vibrato within her when he explored that far too sensitive place. He hadn't pushed inside her, but already her body was a traitor that whispered, you want this, just let him...how long has it been?
Her eyes flew open in panic and refusal, but a small spark of desire burst into flame when she saw the way his broad shoulders moved above her, the line of his muscles undulating beneath tan skin that spoke of everything masculine and feral.
The thickness of his long black hair brushed across her hip, tickling the skin just before his eyes reached up to meet hers. Her breath hitched at the pale color of those glistening orbs that watched her with arrogant satisfaction, caging her in his lethal, sultry stare, as the one finger finally pushed inside.
Her head fell back against the mattress, and Alice was lost to the liquid desire that flowed through her body and between her legs. A blush the color of sunset pink raced across her body.
Moaning, she squirmed when he curled that finger to touch her in places she wasn't sure had been found before, because right now, in this moment, all she could focus on was him.
"So easy," he whispered, his amused voice mocking her as much as the finger he used to thrust down deeper. And despite the anger that was born to mingle with the rush of unwelcome need, Alice had lost all the fight she had in her.
She hated herself as much as him, but spread her legs anyway begging for him to push deeper still. His breath fanned across her slick skin and she bucked at the burst of heat.
"Please..." It was one whispered plea that crawled out from somewhere deep down inside, a frightening reminder that she'd been so easily seduced. One touch - one pleasureful touch - and she was a slave to the sensation he gave her.
His shoulders shook with silent laughter, his finger picking up its tortuous rhythm until he was driving it so deep within her, she was begging for more so she wouldn't scream.
She groaned in complaint when he pulled his hand away, and he shushed her and cooed, "Just a little bit longer."
His body moved to kick his pants down farther and the weight of him inched up over her until his body heat was a comfort across her skin, a lie that promised safety and love. And when he finally pushed into her as thick and hard as she knew he would be, the sudden fullness from that one violent stroke inside forced the breath she'd been holding from her lungs.
Max wasn't the sweet type in bed, the kind of man who told you how beautiful you were beneath him and made promises of how he'd love you forever. No. Not with the darkness that lurked inside him, the clawing need for pain that forces a woman to whimper. He drove into her so hard, she thought she'd split open, his hand wrapping over her throat to hold her in place and steal away control of the air that flooded her lungs.
Unable to draw in a breath, Alice swam in euphoria, the feeling of floating beneath him while he took what he wanted. She was coming apart at the seams, trapped in a nightmare that split her between the side that begged and the side that whispered to her that she was finally the victim she always promised herself she'd never be.