Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,11

used to tease me that I got incredibly horny when I came back from a run in the snow.

Now I was drowning in it. My breasts heaved at his nearness. Hot and sticky, my body brushed against his icy exterior.

“What would you say to them?” he growled, his mouth skating by my ear, but not touching. “How did you find your way back here, little one? Tell me.”

“I-I…” The words died in my throat because what my mind recalled about my journey here was impossible. Crazy and totally illogical.

“Cat got your tongue? You never used to be short of words.” His breath brushed my neck, forcing my lids to squeeze shut, my heart thudding into my ribs. The sense of being off kilter terrified me, but, strangely, I felt alive, more present than I had in a long time. “Always so full of fire, you burned everything in your path.”

“You’re just a dream. This is not real,” I whispered.

“Do I feel like a dream to you?” he rumbled in my ear, leaving goosebumps in his wake without even laying one finger on me. “Could you even make me up? You have lost all imagination, all passion, little one. Do you even know who you are?”

Like an arrow sank into my soul, I was overwhelmed with the feeling of being stripped and left bare—exposed. And I hated it.

He smirked like he knew he hit the bullseye.

“Get away from me, asshole.” Rage slammed through my hands as I shoved at his chest, not even moving him an inch. He sucked in sharply, his eyes darting down to where my hands had been. His shoulders tightened, his nose flaring. He moved back, chest puffing, composing his features into stone. “You are a disgusting piece of shit. Have to kidnap women to feel manly? Can’t get laid without forcing ones into your lair?” Which was a total lie; the man could have any woman in the world without even trying. Tempers ran in our family. It usually took time for me to hit mine, but when I did…watch out.

“Lair!” His mouth twitched with humor, his palm rubbing over his chest where I had hit him. “I don’t need to force anyone. They come begging at my door.”

He stepped back into me, his hand knotting through my hair, tugging on it. “Over and over, they plead for me to fuck them. Ever have an orgasm so deep every molecule in your body shreds into nothing? Until you have no concept of yourself, and all you feel is utter ecstasy?” His fingers dug into my head, sparking fire down my veins, his voice raspy and turning to fury. “No, I know you haven’t. You have no clue, do you? Vanilla. Boring. Your nice, sweet boyfriend has no idea who you really are underneath.”

He snarled, looking at me like a piece of dirt. “What’s sad is you don’t either. You have forgotten. Lost your way.” He yanked my head back farther, wetness seeping from me, only rallying my fury. As I wiggled to get free, his grip intensified. Dominant and strong. Qualities Scott didn’t have, but it was one of the reasons I loved him. We were equals. “I could destroy you, Dinah, like you deserve. Break and shatter you into pieces. Strip away everything you ever knew or understood.”

Oxygen staggered in and out of my chest as hate coursed through me, my jaw clenching, my chin up high. “Fuck you,” I snarled.

“You couldn’t handle it, little one,” he scoffed, letting me go. His lips tugged up with disgust. “You’ve changed, and not for the better.”

Changed? He kept talking as if he knew me. This man was insane.

“You are free to go.” His tone was icy and unwelcome. I hesitated for a moment before I darted for the door. “Oh, and Dinah?” I paused a second, glancing back at him. “You wanted to know who I am?” A slow, cruel smile hinted on his lips. “I’m your worst nightmare.” His words sliced through me.

Brutal. Cold.

Turning, I fled down the stairs. Terror bolted me forward, the seams around my sanity fraying with every step.

What if you already are crazy, Dinah?

I remembered hearing my sister say once, “Only the insane are so sure of their sanity.”

The pounding of my heart and feet beat like a drum in my ears, my legs carrying me out of the place. I didn’t take much time to study my surroundings as I fled, but it was what I’d consider a fortress or small