HIS by Jenika Snow

Author:Jenika Snow [Snow, Jenika]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Erotica, Fiction
Publisher: Jenika Snow
Published: 2014-07-04T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Abe held the chain in one hand, and had a bruising grip on her forearm with his other one. He led them into the bedroom that she assumed was his, not just because it was the only room in the cabin that she hadn’t seen, but because it smelled darkly like he did. He tossed her across the room with enough force that she stumbled forward and landed on her belly on the bed. But Bethany was not about to be in that vulnerable position willingly. She turned around quickly so she was sitting on the bed and gripped the thin comforter underneath her. Abe went back to pacing the room, but he had his gaze locked on her the entire time. She noticed he glanced at her breasts. She looked down and saw how hard her nipples were, and was surprised they hadn’t ripped through the material. Bethany quickly covered her chest with her forearm, trying to hide herself from him, even though she was aroused.

“Drop your fucking arm.” He growled out the words. “You don’t hide from me.”

“You said you wouldn’t force yourself on me.” She whispered the words, but it was more out of pleasure from this dark desire churning inside of her than anything else.

“And I won’t, but I told you that you’re mine, and that means I will look upon you however, and as often, as I please.” A moment of silence stretched between them. “No, drop your fucking arm.”

As if she were the puppet and he the puppeteer, she dropped her arm on his command. Her chest heaved up and down as she sucked in air, but could never quite get enough into her lungs. Every erogenous zone in her body tingled as he watched her, and when he took a step toward her the heat in her body intensified.

“Take your shirt off.” He stopped a few feet from her, clenching and unclenching his hands by his sides.

Of course there was that little voice inside of her that said to fight and not give in, but the strong voice, the one that wanted to be ravished by this beast, told that voice to fuck off. She gripped the edge of her shirt and pulled it up and off her head. The air was cool and her skin puckered with goose bumps. She was scared, of course, but the way he looked at her, as if she were the only woman on the planet, had a drugged feeling consuming her. She was high, drunk, intoxicated, and although all of those things were the same, she felt like each and every one was a living, breathing entity inside of her.

His gaze was penetrating, like he was actually reaching out and stroking her skin with that alone. There had to be something wrong with her that she desired this—desired him.

“The pants, take them off.” It didn’t even sound like him anymore, and she could tell in his voice alone that he was barely holding on to his control.

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