“Protect me?! What do you mean by protecting me?! You made me look like a liar!”
But even as I hit him, he seized my other wrist, pinning both of my hands against his chest as if I were a helpless child throwing a tantrum.
Then he stepped closer, pressing his body against mine, a mixture of steel, heat, and danger wrapped in the form of one infuriating man.
I squirmed, twisting like a woman possessed, but he held me tightly, his arms forming an unyielding cage around me.
I despised how familiar he felt, even now, even after everything that had happened.
“Enough, Savannah,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
But I refused to listen.
“You want the truth?” he continued, his voice low, not cruel but weary. “I’d never hurt you, Savannah. But you never asked what I had to give up to protect you.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, my heart racing.
He fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
I looked up into his eyes, searching for some sign of vulnerability behind that calm facade. I hated that mask he wore. I wanted to see it crack, to witness his composure shatter the way mine was beginning to.
And without thinking, I did the unthinkable.
I connected my knee to his groin with as much force as I could muster, as if I were kicking a soccer ball.
“Screw you, Roman,” I spat.
His grip released me in an instant.
“Fuck!” he gasped, doubling over in pain.
“Now you know how I feel,” I said, my chest heaving as I watched him drop to his knees, clutching himself in agony.
“Looks like you’re plotting to wipe out my entire bloodline, Savannah!” His voice was a low growl, laced with disbelief and anger.
“If that’s what it takes to get my revenge,” I shot back, my voice steady, “then I hope they fall off.”
“Jesus, Savannah…” His roar of pain echoed through the room, and I could see him clutching his most prized possessions as if they were the only thing keeping him grounded.
For a fleeting moment, a flicker of concern washed over me, urging me to rush to his side, to comfort him in his agony. But just as quickly, I halted, my feet rooted to the floor.
The sound he emitted-a mix of a snarl and a growl-sent a fresh wave of guilt crashing over me. But then clarity struck like a lightning bolt; he had brought this upon himself.
He hadn’t told the truth.
A twisted sense of satisfaction surged within me as I absorbed the sight of his discomfort. The way his features contorted in agony, the way his breath hitched, the way he cursed and flushed crimson-it was almost poetic.
I stood above him, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my heart racing like a wild animal.
His face was a canvas of pain, the redness creeping across his cheeks like a wildfire. He slammed his palm against the floor, a wounded creature fighting against its own suffering, snarling and hissing as if the world had turned against him.
“I hope that hurts,” I taunted, a smirk creeping onto my lips.
“Fucking hell, Savannah!” he groaned, the desperation in his voice palpable. “Are you trying to make me dickless?!”
“Yes, Roman,” I replied, my tone sharp and unyielding. “So consider your favorite body part officially at risk.”
He barked out a laugh, even while hunched over in pain. It was a strange, almost deranged sound that made me blink in surprise.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded, my irritation bubbling to the surface. “Do you want me to go again?”
“I haven’t felt pain like that in a long time,” he murmured, almost to himself, as if the realization unsettled him. “It’s… refreshing.”
I crossed my arms defiantly, a smirk still playing on my lips. “Well, lucky for you, I’m more than willing to be a generous refresher. There’s plenty more where that came from.”
Then he lifted his gaze to meet mine, and the air between us shifted palpably. His lips parted slightly, his eyes darkening with an intensity that made my breath hitch.
“You’re going to pay for that, Sav,” he said, his voice now gravelly and filled with a promise that sent shivers down my spine. “You’re going to beg while I make you pay. For the slap. For the kick.”
–
My mouth felt parched, a boldness igniting within me! Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, my traitorous body betrayed me.
The book he had gifted me ignited a wildfire of emotions beneath my skin. I hated that my breath caught in my throat, despised the way my thighs pulsed with a traitorous throb. I despised the tightening knot in my belly that seemed to echo my inner turmoil.
In that moment, I loathed him… but, oh, how desperately I wanted him too.
I attempted to cross my legs subtly, yearning to suppress the ache that was blossoming within me. But, of course, his eyes caught the movement.
He tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Someone’s excited.”
I fought against the tide of my raging hormones, folding my arms defensively across my chest. “And someone’s over there, whimpering like a kicked puppy.”
He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound. “I was letting you enjoy your little moment. Are you done now?”
“Keep talking, and I’ll see if those balls do burst under pressure,” I shot back, my bravado rising.
His gaze roamed over me, slow and deliberate, as if he were savoring every inch. “Why don’t we find out, love?”
He groaned again, still hunched over, but then slowly straightened, like a beast rising from the ashes. His eyes were now ablaze with something primal and intense.
In an instant, he surged from the floor as if the pain had vanished, replaced by a darker energy. Before I could process what was happening, he lunged at me, pinning me against the bed, my face pressed into the mattress, my wrists captured behind my back by his relentless grip.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.