Danika’s teary eyes searched his face. She didn’t understand what he meant. Her
face spoke volumes about her cluelessness.
His hand went to her jaw, and he tilted her face up to stare at her. “Your father
already messed with my head so much that all torture fried the sane brain cells. I have
the same mind as an insane man.”
Her lashes fluttered shut and tears slipped from the sides, following the trail of the
dried tears on her cheek, but his hand on her jaw shook her slightly, forcing her eyes
open.
He lowered his head to her eye level. “Now, I ask you again, why are you messing
with my head?”
He pulled away and took a step back, his face unreadable. “I wonder how a
monster like Cone could father the woman you’re showing the world. The woman
you’re trying to make me see?”
She shook her head at a loss for words. The question floated in the air between
them.
He averted his eyes, looking away from her. The silence stretched; he said nothing.
Even as his body reacted to the sight of her beautiful, lush naked body-so white it
was pale; so flawless, like porcelain-he said nothing.
Finally, his eyes bored into hers.
“If I touch you, I won’t hold back.” His voice was low like gravel and grated like
sandpaper; it caused a shiver to work down her spine.
Her eyes met his. “I don’t want you to… to hold back.”
Silence.
Then he stepped back again. “Get on the bed, Danika.”
Danika climbed onto the bed and laid down on it. She gave him her back, as usual,
her elbows on the bed and rested her head between them. She tried not to think about
what was about to happen. She tried not to think about what had happened. She tried
not to think about the royal court. She tried not to think about Sally’s condition.
Instead, Danika squeezed her eyes tight, hearing the rustle of clothing behind her.
He’d said he wouldn’t hold back. And while that warning scared the living
daylights out of her, she wanted it. She needed it.
The bed dipped, and King Lucien settled in behind her. The tip of his swollen
phallus nudged her opening. But he withdrew. Instead, he pressed his hand on her
womanhood, and she jerked when she felt the wetness of the warm liquid he was
pressing into her. He was preparing her. He worked a finger into her tight channel,
and she gritted her teeth and took the invading digit. Tears dropped from her eyes and
splashed on the bed.
She had cried for long hours, and her head and her eyes hurt. Her eyes were red
and swollen, and yet, the tears wouldn’t stop coming. She wanted him to hurt her. She
wanted the pain, and when he worked another wet finger into her, causing a burn to
spread through her, she pushed back at him impatiently, whimpering softly.
He leaned down, his body blanketing her and pushing her deeper into the bed.
“What do you want?” His breath was hot against her ear.
“I want you t-to take me… hard and fast. I want you to h-hurt me,” she whispered,
her voice hoarse.
Silence. His fingers worked inside her, pushing and pulling.
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for, Danika,” he groaned at last.
Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she really didn’t, but she still needed it. She pushed back
against him.
“Do you know why I’m going to do what you want?”
She shook her head against the mattress.
“Because it is what I want too.” Then he took his weight off her, pulling back
completely.
Before she could process his words, one hand grabbed a fistful of hair, jerking her
neck back.
His erection rocked against her outer flesh, hot, hard, and heavy. No matter how
ready her mind was, it scared her body to death. Fear lit up her chest, but she shut her
mind to it.
Then he pulled back and thrust violently, coldly, viciously into her. Her elbows
gave way, and she fell headfirst into the pillow. Her hands couldn’t support her.
Everything burned. Everything hurt.
She gripped the pillow, gasping for breath, sucking in material as the searing,
frightening pain of being taken violently made her cry out. The pillow absorbed her
hot tears as the king rammed into her again.
He lost himself, turning inhuman as he rode her just like she’d asked. Her scalp
screamed where he held her captive by the hair.
Then he took her harder.
His stiff erection plunged deep inside her, filling her, distorting her. The wetness
he’d stuffed inside her prevented searing pain, but the fierceness of every thrust made
her ache instantly with bruises.
Fingers dug deep into her hips, jerking her back relentlessly to meet his every
surge.
Forgotten was the internal searing pain-the burning ripping of her heart. All she
felt was what he was doing to her. All she felt was being used thoroughly.
Danika bit her lip, cutting off the scream that rose to her throat as he withdrew and
slammed into her again. Her back bowed as he thrust deeper and deeper.
He was groaning with pleasure, she realised. And even amid that pain, a thrill of
power shot through her. She made him this way. She was the one giving him this
pleasure.
She didn’t understand the thought or the feeling, but it was there.
His fingers gripped her hips, holding her in place as he savagely thrust. Every
pound sent shockwaves of agony through her, and she whimpered and yelped. His
hipbones dug into her ass, adding more bruises with each thrust. King Lucien thrust
harder and harder, driving her deeper and deeper into the pillow. He filled her to the
brink until Danika thought she’d split in two.
“I told you. I warned you,” he growled, driving into her like a monster.