Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“The bet was for you.”
A heavy pain sits on my chest, and I feel like I’m suffocating. Like I’m drowning in a pool of water, I can see the surface, but as much as I kick, I can’t break free. I can’t breathe.
My father bet me.
The man who was supposed to love me unconditionally, placed a bet and I was the stakes. My heart thumps madly as tears well in my eyes.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
I pull my legs in tight, my arms wrapping around my knees as I begin to rock.
My father doesn’t deserve my tears.
I take a deep breath and try to relax; there is more I need to know, and I can’t lose it now.
I swallow and find my voice. “You won me?” I choke out. “I’m a game.” The tears I thought I had stopped threaten to fall from my eyes.
He shakes his head.
“No. Ivy, I didn’t win you in a bet.”
I don’t understand what he’s saying. My mouth feels like it’s wired shut, and my throat feels like it’s closing, but no matter how much it hurts to open it and speak the words, I do.
“Then who?” Barely audible words, but they come out regardless and he hears them, because he closes his eyes before speaking.
“The Butcher.”
The blood in my veins turns to ice, and my whole body starts to shake uncontrollably.
The Butcher.
I belong to The Butcher.
You would have to be living under a rock not to know who The Butcher was.
Even though I don’t go out much, I’ve watched the news enough to know of him.
“Isn’t he like Russian mafia or something?”
When I don’t speak, he leans forward and buries his head in his hands.
“He is.”
“Why would he want me?”
“He takes women.”
Thump.
“Sells the lucky ones.”
“And the unlucky ones?”
Thump.
“He keeps them for his own sick amusement. They don’t call him The Butcher for no reason.”
“H-He . . .” I stutter.
“He carves them up, rapes them, and then throws them away when he’s done.”
Fear slithers in my veins, poisoning and killing off the remainder of peace within my body.
“What does this have to do with you?” I ask. Was he a part of this? Was he holding me for him? I push to stand, my back straight and my body tense. “Are you going to give me to him? Did you have your fun, and now it’s time for me to go?”
He stands and comes toward me, but I lift my hands in the air to stop him.
“How can you say that?”
“How can I say that!” I scream. “You kidnapped me. Now you tell me I belong to The Butcher, and you have the nerve to ask me how I could say that. It all makes sense.” I take a step back. “You wouldn’t touch me, probably because you were scared of The Butcher finding out.”
He stalks me like a predator stalking his prey. Grabbing me, he yanks me toward him.
His lips inch toward my ear, his breaths tickling my skin. It sends a shiver down my spine as he speaks. “I’m not scared of him or anyone who tries to take you. And do you want to know why?”
His arms wrap around my front, and he slips his hand into my leggings. When his fingers find my core, he speaks. “Because you’re mine. Understand me, Sun. You are mine. Not his. And I will fucking kill him or anyone who tries to take you from me.”
I bite my lower lip at his words, stifling the moan threatening to expel.
He parts me with his finger. “Do you understand me?”
My head falls back, and my eyes close. “Tell me you understand, Sun.”
I let out a whimper. His fingers stop their ministrations. Instead, they hover over where I need him, teasing, toying, but not breaching. “Tell me.”
“I understand,” I pant.
“And who do you belong to?”
“No one,” I say, and he thrusts his fingers back inside me.
“Wrong answer, Sun.” Behind me, I can hear him rummaging to free himself. “Hold on to the tree.”
I open my eyes, placing my hand on the tree inches away from us.
He grips me by the waist and pushes me forward to angle my ass up. I’m shaking with need as I wait for him to touch me again.
A primal moan escapes me as he thrusts inside me.
His thrusts are hard and fast.
Violent. He is telling me he owns me.
I’m his.
I arch my back, letting him take me deeper.
One hand lifts from where it is resting on my hip, and he grabs my hair, pulling my head back until his lips find mine.
Our tongues dance together.
The insanity is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Nothing has ever felt like this.
No kiss. No touch.
This is different. This is primal.
Desperate.
I need this right now. My world is spinning out of control and I need the power Cyrus yields.