Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
I just don’t know how far he would take it.
He might be torturing me on purpose because he’s jealous and I made him mad, but surely, he didn’t really do anything to him.
Maybe he’s just trying to scare me. To punish me. Silvan is very manipulative with words. He keeps a clear head and uses his words carefully while my mind blanks with fear and I can’t think straight, so he’s probably just fucking with me. Trying to scare me. That’s all it is.
I still feel sick.
I don’t know what’s real and what was Silvan.
Maybe none of it’s real.
I play it all back, and when the girl handed me that note, she said she was told to give me the letter. She didn’t say Professor DeMarco told her to give it to me.
Maybe this was all a trap.
“Is this even his house?” I whisper.
Silvan smiles, but it’s not a nice smile. “Oh, yes. This is his house.” He keeps one hand around my throat, but brings the other up to grip my jaw, turning my face and making me look at the bed. “And that is his bed. But he is not the one who’s going to fuck you in it.”
My heart stops.
Fear claws at my insides.
“Silvan, no,” I whisper.
He leans close and kisses the corner of my mouth, still holding me in place. “You wanted to give it up to a manipulative bastard tonight, Sophie. Who am I to stop you?”
“No…”
“It’s ironic how he was asking if you understood misattribution of arousal, isn’t it? When he uses his authority over you to make you nervous, to get you all hot and bothered so you think you might be into him. He was practically rubbing your fucking face in it even as he was using it to fuck you. I’ve gotta tell you, Soph, I think he’s a fucking asshole. I’m not impressed.”
“I wasn’t going to—”
“Don’t bother denying it, beautiful.” He lets go of my throat so he can unbutton my skirt.
I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow. “Silvan, please…”
“It’s all right. I’ll let you make it up to me.”
I open my eyes. I know it’s a risk even letting on that I care when he’s being so unreasonable, but I have to know. “Please tell me you haven’t done anything to him.”
“I haven’t. Not yet.”
There’s eagerness in his last words, a sense of malice that makes me really fucking nervous.
"He didn’t—he didn’t do anything to me. I don’t like him like that,” I say pleadingly, meeting his gaze.
His green eyes are so dark, in this light they could be black.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, since he liked that word on my lips last time I said it.
He likes it now, too.
He grabs my throat and pulls me away from the wall, into his hard body. “Say it again,” he murmurs as he kisses my lips like he can taste the flavor of my remorse and he wants a stronger proof.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
His lips crash against mine and he pushes me back against the wall. I cry out at the impact, then gasp as his hard body presses into mine.
I’m caged against the wall as he ravishes my mouth with such possessive greed, such raw hunger that I can scarcely breathe. I push against his chest, but that only seems to intensify his appetite for me.
When he breaks away from my lips, I suck in air like a drowning person breaking the water’s surface.
“You came here to see him, but you’re getting me.”
I shake my head in denial, but he doesn’t give me a chance to speak.
“Tell me you want me, Sophie.”
That demand feels like a blade he wants me to turn on myself.
He slides a hand around the back of my head, then grips the strands of my hair and yanks my head back, baring my neck moments before he latches on. I cry out as he roughly kisses my neck, pushing me hard against the wall, but using his hand as a cushion so I don’t bang my head.
“I’m still deciding what I’m going to do to him, Sophie. If you want me to be merciful, you better fucking beg for it.”
My heart stutters to a stop, then races to catch up. “I… I…” The words won’t leave my lips, so he bites me. I cry out at the bite of pain, grabbing his side and bracing one hand on his muscular shoulder. “Silvan, please.”
My skirt is on the floor, so when he pushes up my shirt, he easily grabs the waistband of my tights. I gasp as he tears through them one-handed, ripping them away from my body with a loud tearing sound that seems to echo off the walls.
He leaves the ruined tights hanging around my thighs, then slides his hand up my trembling body to cup my breast.