Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I paced the room, hands pressed to the small of my back, a bead of sweat tracing down my temple as the conflict settled over me like a weight.

Should I go? Or should I not? In that moment I needed a reason—any reason—to stay away. Yet every reason I found only pushed me toward him.

Because I had everything to lose. He had said it in the car, and it was true. I stood to lose everything… everything except myself. I wanted to choose them, my family, but I had never truly felt as though I belonged among them, and I could not be certain my efforts would even be noticed.

I glanced at my wristwatch. Nine-fifty. Ten minutes left. Ten minutes to decide whether I wanted this forbidden thing between us—between me and my sister’s man—to continue, or whether I wished for an end.

It sounded as though I had a choice. In truth, I did not. I was only the human puppet that danced to every tune he played.

And my family would never understand. Even if I chose to tell them the truth, I would always be the villain who tried to snatch her sister’s man.

I drew in a deep breath and carried myself out of the room as courage settled over me once more. I needed to face Kane and set things right. To make him understand. To make him sympathize.

I knocked on his door and waited. The door creaked open. He appeared behind it, shirtless, water still dripping from his body, hair damp and freshly washed from the shower. A white towel hung low on his hips, revealing the sharp V-line that disappeared beneath the fabric.

My mouth watered instantly. A sudden heat flooded through me, setting my clit and my face ablaze. I gulped and cleared my throat, forcing my eyes away.

His gaze lingered on me for a few seconds before he stepped aside. I entered the room. He shut the door firmly behind us. The sound of the lock echoed. I knew what was coming next, yet I refused to let myself be completely undone. I stood my ground.

I cleared my throat and began. “I’d wanted to have a proper discussion, but I didn’t know how… Gladly, I’m standing in front of you now, so I can speak my mind.”

I watched him watch me in silence, his eyes taking in every movement, every reaction.

What is he doing? And what the hell is he up to? I wondered. Still, I would not let myself grow comfortable beneath that stare. I pressed on.

“Firstly, I hate people interfering with my life—and you… that is exactly what you are doing. You had better stop whatever stupid plans are going on in that mind of yours.” I sucked in a deep breath, steadying my nerves.

“And second of all, I am not your fucking puppet. I will not allow you to take control of my entire life and drag it down into ruins.” I held his gaze, desperate to drive the point home. “Who do you think you are to barge into my life and believe you can rule me? The fact that I stayed calm does not mean I cannot fight back. So back off!”

I spat the last words and was left breathless at the end of the speech.

I had hoped for silent withdrawal, or at least an expression that showed he had understood. What I received instead was a low, mocking chuckle that rumbled from deep in his chest.

He circled me like a predator studying its prey, eyes calm and calculating. He stopped before me and scanned me from head to toe, as though deciding whether I was qualified to speak at all.

“Ungrateful,” he muttered.

My brows drew together. What did he mean by that? Had he done anything that deserved gratitude?

“It’s quite an offense for a slave to speak to her master in such a manner… and with such an aggressive tone.” He reached for my face, caught my chin, and tilted my head up so I was forced to look at him.

I was certain my brows were nearly touching. What the fuck did he mean by that? Slave? Who was his slave? That certainly could not be me.

“And those eyes—I will only accept desire in them. Nothing else.” He released my face roughly. I staggered a step back.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he hushed me with a single finger. “You must think you have a say in all of this, and the power to walk away whenever you feel like it… but honey, you don’t.”

“You lost it the very day you let yourself moan beneath me like a cheap slut, begging for my cum inside you.”

I had no time to think. He yanked me, spun me around, and the next second I was on all fours, bent over, my ass toward him, hands braced on the bed to hold my weight.

I immediately tried to push myself up, but he slammed a hand against my back. A soft yelp escaped my lips. Then his palm landed hard on the bare skin of my ass, strong enough to send chills racing through me that I fought desperately to suppress. My pussy pulsed in response, betraying every attempt to resist.

He let out another mocking chuckle as his fingers traced the edge of my lingerie, slipping between my ass cheeks. Though I could not see him, I knew a smirk was etched across his face.

“Look at you… claiming you don’t want any of it, yet you come here dressed like this,” he said.

I bit my lip. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I hadn’t thought about it. I had been too focused on coming here and making my point.

His finger traveled lower until it found my already dripping pussy. He slid one finger inside me and I gasped.

“Here you are, dripping wet on my finger… your pussy walls clutching at me in desperate need to be filled…” He cocked his head. “And you still say you aren’t a slut?”

“No…” I breathed.

“No?”

“Please…” The word slipped out on its own, leaving me uncertain what I was even begging for.

Kane barely had to do anything to put me in the mood; the mere sound of his voice was enough. Yet I refused to be the slave he claimed I was. I still had a will, and that he could not take from me. I wanted to fight—even with his fingers buried inside me, I still wanted to fight him.

A loud moan tore from my lips when he fisted my hair and yanked my head back. His mouth rested an inch from my ear, his hot breath washing over the sensitive skin. He slid a second finger inside me, moving both in and out of my pussy.

“Do you still fucking think you have a say in this? Do you think your decision matters… do you?” he demanded.

I did not answer. To force a response he pulled harder on my hair and curled the fingers buried inside me. I screamed at the sharp mixture of pain and pleasure.

“No… ah… please,” I begged.

“Say it!” he urged.

I complied at once.

“I’m nothing but your slave, and my decision doesn’t matter to you… please!” I begged him. Pleasure coiled tight in my stomach; my knees threatened to give way.

Still I fought with the last of my strength to stay upright. Even as he broke me, I would not let myself crumble completely.

“What are you?” he demanded.

I bit my lip in resistance. He only smirked and added a third finger. My mouth fell open as I felt them stretch me, thrusting in and out. His tongue traced my earlobe before he bit down. I shuddered and moaned all at once.

“What the fuck are you to me… say it.”

I was about to answer when a knock sounded at the door, freezing us both. I bit down hard on my lip, fighting back the moan that hovered a breath away from escaping.