The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,1

his other hand behind her, down her back to her backside and squeezed. “Don’t you want to make me happy? Smart little girls want to make me happy.”

Finley turned her head as his face came down toward hers, and narrowly escaped being kissed. His wet mouth landed on her ear instead. She shuddered. “Please, my lord. Let me go.” For your own sake.

His lips fastened on her neck instead. Nausea rolled through her stomach and then suddenly stopped as she felt his palm against the striped stockings that covered her thigh. He wasn’t going to cease. He wasn’t going to let her go. He was going to take what he wanted, because that’s what rich young men did to girls under their control.

But she wasn’t under anybody’s control. Not even her own. She could feel it fracturing as something deep inside fought to get out.

Finley brought both hands up and pushed hard against his chest. He flew backward, hitting the opposite wall with enough force to crack the plaster.

Lord Felix stared at her, in both shock and outrage. “You nasty tart,” he snarled as he brushed dust from his sleeves. “Like a bit of the rough, do you?”

“You’ve no idea,” Finley heard herself reply coolly. “But make no mistake, my lord, I do not like you, so keep those damn hands of yours to yourself.”

The young man’s face reddened and his eyes shone with anger. “Bitch. No guttersnipe servant talks to me that way.” He straightened and took a step toward her, shrugging out of his purple velvet frock-coat. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson.”

She didn’t see the blow coming, but she certainly felt it when it hit. Her head jolted back under the force of his fist, striking the wall. Lights danced in the darkness of her eyes as pain shot through her skull. But she did not pass out.

It would have been so much better for Lord Felix if she had.

She could feel blood trickling from her mouth and she wiped at it with the back of her hand. Vision finally clear, she saw that Lord Felix had also removed his waistcoat and was now rolling up his sleeves. The excited glint in his eye told Finley exactly what kind of lesson he intended her to “learn.”

Something inside her stretched and pulled—still fighting to get out. There was no point in denying it anymore. She had been raised in a loving home with her mother and stepfather—a kind and honest man who doted on them both. He would never dream of such violence—no good man would.

But Lord Felix August-Raynes was not a good man. And it was time someone taught him a lesson.

The warm rush of familiar power brought a slight smile to her battered lips. She gave up all attempts to keep it reined in. It was the only way she’d survive this night with her virtue and bones intact. It was as though she was watching herself from a perch on the ceiling—all she could do was observe as her other self took over. Her boots shifted on the bare floor, right foot forward, left foot back and pointed out. She raised her fists.

“Coming back for more, eh?” Felix grinned at her. “I like a little fight in my girls.”

She grinned at him, causing blood to dribble down her chin. “Then you’re going to love me.” The voice was hers, but deeper and throatier than she’d ever heard before. It was a dangerous voice, and even Felix paused at the sound of it.

Finley, however, did not pause. She drove her fist right into her attacker’s throat. He staggered backward, eyes wide with shock as he coughed and choked and struggled for breath.

She bounced on her feet, waiting for him to recover. She should run and hide. She should be gasping in fear, lungs constrained by the tight lacing of her corset. But she wasn’t afraid anymore and she wasn’t about to run. She was going to fight.

But first, a little fun. She hadn’t hit the bully as hard as she could have. She was going to let him think he stood a chance first.

When Felix recovered enough to come at her again, she was ready for him. He swung and she ducked, landing another punch to his kidneys. When he doubled over, she grabbed his head and brought her knee up fast. Unfortunately, the layers of skirts she wore softened the blow. He struck her in the stomach, knocking the breath from her, and then