“Well?” It seems Adie is just as impatient as I am, albeit for different things. How do I answer that? Where is a good place to want to be burned? Seriously?
“Suit yourself,” he says, and as he moves down my body. The base of the cold metal lighter slides over my hips, dipping dangerously low. Oh, fuck no, you bastard. Unless I am wrong, he is about to yank my chain in fairly spectacular fashion.
Down the lighter slides. Down, down, down. When it runs over my clit, I can feel the heat of the flame against my most intimate flesh – and there’s no way he’s burning me there.
“I’ll kiss you.” The words are breathless and my body jolts upwards as the cold metal presses against my clit.
“I thought you might,” Adie says, as he flips the lid back on the lighter abruptly. Staring at me triumphantly, he then places both hands on my breasts and squeezes hard. A mewl of pain leaves my lips, but there’s a trail of sticky arousal dribbling down my legs at the same time. The emotions running through me are frustrating and annoying. Why him? Why now? These are questions that have no answers.
When Adie moves further up my body, those elegant cheekbones sweeping back towards me for the kill, a scream bubbles up in my throat. It’s not because he’s forcing me to do this, it’s because I want him to, and that’s even worse. When his lips pause, inches from mine, all I can think about is drinking him in. Hello Stockholm Syndrome. Jesus. Get your head back in the game, Mel.
As if the man can read my troubled thoughts, he says, “It’s amazing what you’ll whore yourself out for, when given the right incentive, isn’t it?”
Screw you. Something inside me snaps.
“You’re right. Life’s too short. I’d rather be burned. Let’s go with the forearm.” I then twist my head away, to make my point doubly clear. Rage curls up inside me. Yes, I’ll be left with a scar. Yes, it’ll hurt. Even after considering all of that, it’s still more than worth it to sock it to this arrogant twat.
Adrien’s eyes dance. He’s not upset – not in the slightest. The man is now looking at me as if I’m a science project he has to unravel. It’s probably safe to assume I’m not behaving like the average female around him, and to my horror, I think it’s turning him on. Tears and screaming were probably the way to go.
“I’m not going to burn you, princess. Not yet. That will come later.”
Oh, how true those words were, although perhaps not in the conventional sense. Adrien Dumortier was going to burn me so badly, I would never look at another man again.
Leader
Adie intrigues me. He’s not what I expected. Sure, he’s arrogant, narcissistic and an incredible egomaniac, but he’s also intelligent, cunning and adept in several more areas than I gave him credit for. One could be forgiven for thinking he’d be a mean son-of-a-bitch after hearing tales of his brother’s exploits, and he is, but he’s not a carbon-copy of Alain. This is probably because we haven’t got to the intensely nasty bit yet, so perhaps my optimism is a little premature. My opinion is likely to change at that point. If I don’t manage to get myself out of this mess by the time he starts inflicting pain, the man had better kill me because if he doesn’t, and I do get out, he won’t live for long after. I’ll take great pleasure in hunting him down and causing him untold misery. I live for shit like that.
“You will kiss me. Maybe not right this instant, princess, but it won’t take very long when we enter my world.” Grabbing a tendril of my hair, Adie twirls it around in his fingers, admiring the blonde strands. So he should. I had to sit in the bloody hairdresser’s chair for about three hours to get it this shade of platinum.
“Says who?” My lips sneer in distaste. All of this posturing does not impress me. I can pretty much guarantee that if he starts to cause me pain, the last thing on my mind is going to be the thought of kissing him.
“Don’t feel bad,” he purrs. “Everyone whores themselves out in this world. Whether it’s at high-school, work, or trying to climb up the social ladder, there is an element of cost to nearly everything we do. Sometimes it’s to our self-esteem, sometimes it’s to our bank balance, and in others it’s our pride itself that takes a fall. By the time the next twenty-four hours have passed, you’ll have sucked my cock, begged for sex, and suffered through so many orgasms your entire body will hurt from the inside out. You will learn to take pain for me, embrace it, and use it to fuel bigger and better things. You’ll enjoy being my pet, Ione. I’ll even make you love the parts you hate. By the end of the day, you will fall for me, no matter what I do to you. Everyone does.”
While trying to process that egotistical statement, Adie then runs a hand down the side of my neck, to find out if my pulse is hammering. It is. Fuck. I’m just like every other woman he’s encountered. My eyes are star-struck by his beautiful face, and my ovaries are pleading to make his babies. Thankfully, my mind is still my own, even if everything else has gone on holiday.
“Sorry, darling. I’m not like you. I’m not a door handle where everyone gets a turn. You can think of me as a lottery. There’s only one winner who gets to take home the jackpot, and there’s no way in hell it’s going to be you.”
Adie’s eyes light up at that sentence. He sees me as a challenge, and he’s a man who adores those. I need to keep my damn mouth shut.
“Says who?” he counters, throwing my earlier statement back at me.
“Says me.”
“You’re the girl who’s just been kidnapped and is tied up in my bed, right?”
Unfortunately, yes.
When the silence stretches out for too long, he eventually continues without me. “Hmm. We’re getting side-tracked.” Picking up his lighter again, Adie flips the lid once more and relights the flame. Oh shit. We’re back to this again. Back the fuck up.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to burn me.”
Adie shrugs his shoulders. “I lied. I lie about lots of things. I’m not exactly a paragon of society. You’ve probably figured that out by now.”
“You’re telling me.” My eyes are once again back on the dancing flame. There is a very real chance I am going to have a heart attack by the time this day is over, and if I haven’t had one, it won’t be for lack of trying on Adie’s part.
The lid then snaps back down on the lighter and Adie pulls out his knife. Instantly trying to recoil, a little gasp of horror leaves my lips, but there is nowhere for me to go. The last time he pulled it out, the thing was pressed up to my neck. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant sensation.
“Relax. I’m going to cut your hands loose.”
“You’re going to what?”
“You heard me.”
Finally. This might be the break I am looking for. If my hands are freed, then there’s a chance I might be able to wrap them around his neck. That’s probably not a very sensible thing to do, though, seeing as we’re several thousand feet up in the air. If I kill him, I’ll either need to take a crash course in skydiving or put a knife to the captain’s throat. It might be workable, but it’s not very sensible. These days the cockpit is generally locked, so you can’t get anywhere near it. Adie will also have a crew to meet him on the ground, and while I can deal with one or two assholes, I can’t deal with dozens of them. Pissing him off is a very stupid idea. It will inevitably come with repercussions, and my position is precarious enough as it is. As if he can read my mind, Adie’s next sentence almost confirms what I am thinking.