Happy hump day! I’m home, and back into my writing, and this week I want to bring you a snippet of something darker…
“Not planning on jumping, are you?”
The sound of his voice was unexpected, and it frightened her already adrenaline-filled body. Molly hadn’t heard him coming back to the room, and she spun to face him, losing her balance and landing awkwardly back onto her left shoulder. Connor laughed at the display, his arrogance evident as he placed the water back down on the dresser. The look of the amusement on his face made the old indignation within her rise to the surface, and she knew she was scowling as she struggled to get herself upright again.
“Molly?” He asked, his long arms drawing his hands to his hips.
Her eyes assessed him, and she wondered what he saw in them? Fear, perhaps? Anger? Maybe something else?
“I asked you a question,” he continued, his tone lowering.
Molly swallowed hard, her emotions threatening to spiral out of control completely. “I…” She closed her mouth, unsure what to actually say. She hadn’t been thinking of jumping, but now that he mentioned it, she can’t remember why she hadn’t thought of that herself.
Connor took one long stride and pointed to the bed. “Sit,” he commanded, as though she was some sort of dog.
She inhaled quickly, fighting both the urge to tell him to go and fuck and himself, and the one which made her pussy wet, in equal measure. She eyed him, fearfully, deciding that for the time being at least, there really was little choice but to obey as he’d asked. Moving on unsteady legs, she fell back to her bottom.
He stared down at her, and as she lifted her head, she couldn’t believe how tall he seemed, towering over her like some mythical man. “I’m waiting for your answer,” he reminded her in a curt, unamused tone.
She straightened up as the weight of his intense gaze fell over her. “I wasn’t going to jump,” she answered. “I swear, I wasn’t even thinking about it.”
This was the truth at least.
“Really?” He enquired, apparently unimpressed by her response. “And how did I ask you to address me, Molly?” His dark brow arched as he questioned her, and the sight of it made her pussy clench reflexively.
“Sir.” The word flew from her lips as though it was the most natural thing to say in the whole world. “You asked me to call you sir.”
He smiled, evidently proud, but the expression hardened almost at once. “So, why did you not call me by my new title?”
She squirmed in her place. “I’m sorry,” she replied, feeling absurdly flustered by the admission. The logical part of her brain, apparently still subdued by the toxins coursing through her system, knew she had no reason to be ashamed. Connor was the asshole here. He was the one who had taken her. He was the perpetrator.
But then, what did that make her? Her squirming stilled as the answer came to her.
It made her the victim.
This new story is in the pipeline, so if you like reading dark romance, keep watching this space.
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