Sookie’s head throbbed, her breath was dry, feeling as though her lungs were on fire. Was this a ploy? Did that man leave her here just to see what she would do? She looked around, searching the exposed beam ceiling for cameras.
This was insane.
Yet, she felt an inexplicable excitement, as if she had finally become unhinged, after all, tonight was supposed to be her night of madness.
She scanned the kitchen area, scanning the door. She screamed again, her throat aching, kicked the bed, feeling her muscles tense.
She refused to believe that in such a large building, no one could hear her. Surely there were other tenants? In a lavish, spacious loft like this? In Boston? Even though the area was low, there must be others living here.
With a man like that and a space like this, there had to be other people! There had to be! But then she suddenly realized, these decorations and this ambiance did not match his style, maybe this wasn’t even where he lived. Did he bring her here to…
She couldn’t bear to think, but she wouldn’t just sit and wait.
She screamed as she climbed onto the bed, leaning her back against the metal frame. As the metal scraped her skin, she winced, rubbing her arms up and down, trying to break the plastic zip-tie on her wrist. The metal scraped against her delicate skin, she whimpered, holding back tears. She threw her weight against it, kicking out and grabbing the bedside table. A lamp on the small table toppled and half-shattered, she hesitated, glancing at the door, expecting him to come back roaring.
As she rubbed the plastic bed, tears streamed down her cheeks, each scrape leaving marks on the metal bed frame, feeling the smoothness of hot blood, until finally, her arm was violently freed.
She staggered off the bed, panting, pulling the rope off her ankles, feeling the blood rush back into her fingers and shoulders. She got up and stumbled towards the elevator, but her foot caught one of the blankets, pulling down the remaining portion of the broken lamp on the bedside table, shattering it on the floor.
Then the kitchen door opened, she spun around, when their eyes met, her scream caught in her throat.
Oh god.
She staggered to her feet, then ran. She didn’t know if she would succeed or if the elevator would be locked, she had to try.
Running was the only thing she knew she had to do.
No thought process, not even a consideration of actually leaving, just running, because she knew that if she stayed, she didn’t know what would happen.
When she heard his muffled and swift footsteps behind her, her throat tightened, his steps thundered on the hardwood floor of the loft. She dodged around the couch, but he was leaping over it, she knew he was about to pounce on her.
Her fist grabbed the table lamp, and before she knew it, she swiftly hurled it at him. As it struck his chest, he roared, flames burning in his eyes.
When Enzo caught up to her, she screamed, as they collided with the wall, his strong arms pulling her tightly, his body pressing against hers.
“Let me go!”
She screamed again, struggling, feeling his powerful, muscular arms holding her tightly against his taut chest. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, teasing her hair, she squirmed in resistance, but he only held her tighter. His roar echoed in her ears.
She shivered.
She immediately loathed herself.
She hated her body’s response to him. She hated that it somehow masked the fact that she was a captive. Instead of focusing on the terrifying male roar, making her back tremble, the feeling of powerful arms pinning her much smaller body against his firm muscles.
She hated it, but it ignited something within her.
As he held her, she tightly shut her eyes, dispelling the moment of madness and the heat coursing through her body. His hands held her tightly, she panted, blood pounding in her ears. When she felt his hard body pressing her against the wall, she trembled, feeling his hips, and something else pressing tightly against her buttocks.
And her body betrayed her.
“Bad girl,” he murmured softly in her ear.
She whimpered.
“I’ve seen plenty of girls like you,” his voice husky, as his lips brushed her ear, sending chills down her spine. “Believe me, princess, I know what kind of person you are. You’re a good girl trying to package yourself as a bad girl. You think it’s sexy and dangerous to be in a dive bar like that, mingling with bad boys.”
As Enzo’s hand tightened at the nape of her neck, she whimpered again, feeling him hard, pressing against her, so she could feel it, but his erection was pressing against her buttocks.
Her rebellious body became active, full of primal fire, arching towards him, even though everything was what she thought she didn’t want.
“Darling,” he roared. “I’m not one of those so-called bad college boys. I’m a very dangerous man.”
She gasped as she felt his lips lightly brushing her neck. His hands slipped into her hair, and as the man tightened his grip on her, she gasped sharply.
“You know nothing about me,” the man hissed.
“I know this excites you,” she replied.
“No,” Sookie said softly, her damned rebellious, betraying body pulsating for this man – painfully wanting to feel the burning flame she had felt when he pulled her to him at the bar and kissed her like that.
“Is that so?” Enzo’s scorching breath sprayed her ear and neck, her ears instantly burning. His words dripped into her ears like honey, choking her, leaving her speechless.
Enzo turned her around, and as their eyes met, Sookie gasped, because his body was pressed against hers, his thighs between hers, pinning her to the wall, the ambiguous posture making her involuntarily moan.
“Princess, we both know why you were there tonight.”
“Screw you,” Sookie blushed and couldn’t help but curse, twisting in the grip of his tight hand, “You’re not-”
“Aren’t you looking for something dangerous and naughty tonight, just to pretend for one night that you’re not a good girl?”
Sookie’s lips tightened, flames burning behind her eyes.
In a way, he was right.
“Darling, girls like you are a dime a dozen in the dive bars of the South City. You went there tonight to find something big, bad, and scary, to make that prim and proper pussy of yours wet.”