Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Always those damn revolting eyes.
“Really, Carson? Drugs again?” His rough, slightly husky voice echoes in the air with apparent disapproval.
“Shh.” I watch as the liquid slowly spills into his veins. “This one is better. It’ll make you crawl at my feet with desire, Professor, and I’ll squash that limp cock of yours beneath my feet.”
His hands slide to my waist, beneath my shirt, skimming over the skin before he digs his fingers into the flesh.
My spine jerks and I pause.
The fuck is this asshole doing?
“You don’t have to resort to rape drugs. If you were that desperate to suck my cock again, all you had to do was beg and I’d let you choke on it.”
I raise my hand and slap him.
Not a punch—even though that idea is growing by the second—but a humiliating slap.
He laughs, the sound sinister and low in the darkness. I feel his abs tightening and vibrating beneath me, and I don’t like to think how my cock is reacting, getting heavy for no reason.
“Does wanting me so much piss you off?” His rough whisper lingers in the air between us.
“I don’t want you.”
“Breaking and entering while in possession of rape drugs with the intention of using them negates your claim. But I suggest you abandon any fantasies you have about fucking me.”
“I don’t want to fuck you.”
“You won’t. I’ll be the one bending you over and teaching you some manners you desperately need.”
“Like fuck you will.”
“What did I say about vulgar language?” he whispers in a low, gruff tone, his fingers gliding across my skin, back and forth, back and forth. “You’re surprisingly lean but nicely toned.”
“Stop touching me. You’re disgusting.”
“Look at that. We’re birds of a feather.”
I grab his hand and start to shove it away.
I realize I’ve made a mistake too late.
In the split second of distraction, Kayden’s grip tightens on my waist, and before I can react, he flips me over, pinning me beneath him. I try to inject the rest of the drug, but his hand comes down hard, slapping my wrist and forcing me to remove the needle as he knocks the syringe from my grasp. It falls to the pillow, just out of reach. I strain, trying to wriggle free, fighting to push him off, but it’s like trying to move a mountain.
Then, in an instant, a large, strong hand wraps around my throat.
I can’t breathe.
The pressure tightens with terrifying speed, and my airway is cut off in a fraction of a second. Kayden looms over me, his massive body a solid, overpowering wall. The snake tattoo on his skin seems to shift, the cold ink twisting into something more real—more deadly—like the predator it’s meant to be, ready to strike. I can feel its fangs at my throat, and I know with brutal clarity that if he wanted to, he would strangle me to death.
While having that impassive look in his eyes.
And for a brief moment, I can see myself.
Dead eyes. Empty insides.
I gasp for breath that doesn’t exist, clawing at his fingers and kicking my legs, but he’s sitting on them, and I can’t move much.
Through my blurry vision, I watch as he easily grabs the syringe and lifts it, the needle glinting in the dark.
“Let’s see how good this stuff is.”
He lowers his hand from my neck, and as I choke on air, he jams the needle into my skin.
I flail and punch him in the chest, but he injects what remains in the syringe into my veins.
Our harsh breathing echoes in the darkness, turning the silence more oppressive. Apocalyptic, even.
Fuck.
Fuck!
He injected me with the stuff he was supposed to have, and because I wanted to ruin him so thoroughly, I doubled the dose when I got it from my dealer. In his words, “It’ll make you forget about reality and beg for more.”
I was supposed to see Kayden on his knees. Not get a taste of my own medicine.
Fucking again.
I barely think about how I had a needle that was inside someone else in me. My slightly germophobic side is overpowered by a stronger side. The one that absolutely loathes losing control.
His weight disappears from on top of me, and I watch in complete and utter bewilderment as he stands up and turns on the light.
Fully fucking naked.
He was covered by the sheet earlier, so I didn’t know he was actually sleeping naked.
Soft yellow light bathes the room as he looms over the bed where I’m lying. The muscles in his chest contract, making the snake appear monstrous.
I’ve seen countless men naked—in the gym and after football practice in high school. All the time. And I never looked at them twice.
Or with curiosity.
Hell, I truly despise it when Niko walks naked around the mansion because he “has a beautiful body and doesn’t like to hide it.”