Salt And Steel
I wrench at him in the present.
But he hauls me against a tree, pinning me. His body tight to mine. Garden lights reflecting in his eyes.
“I own you, Kitten. Not my father.” His lips drop to my neck.
His hands slide inside my dress, up my bare thighs.
I fight him. Fight the way my traitorous body responds.
“Not any of those men, Kitten,” he murmurs, kissing the other side of my throat, his tongue dragging down my skin.
“I don’t want to fuck you, Chase… my friend just died. Your rich friends killed her.” I cry bitterly. He tries to kiss me again and I bite his lower lip. He hisses. But doesn't pull back, as I sob, bitterly.
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