need to keep up this charade for a little while longer. I just don’t know if I’m strong enough, brave enough, or broken enough to follow through with it.
My pulse flutters like a baby bird’s wings as it struggles to fly. It’s erratic and disoriented but desperate enough to keep trying. Licking my lips, I hold his stare and slowly reach down to the knife.
He watches every movement with an arrogant smirk that tells me I’m not getting away with shit before I offer it to him. “Here.”
Lips flattening, he takes it with furrowed brows. “What are you doing, Peach?”
“You’re not stupid, Sei. And neither am I,” I return.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not going to let me get away again. So, why should I piss you off by trying when that would just mean more pain for me?”
“So what are you suggesting?” There’s a curious glint in his eye that urges me on.
With my back pressed into the mattress, I move slowly so that it doesn’t startle him and reach up to cup his cheek. It’s almost clammy with a light sheen of sweat clinging to it, but I hide my disgust and press forward. “I’ve experienced pleasure before, Sei. And if we’re going to have sex, then I might as well enjoy it with you, right?”
His evil grin terrifies me as he counters, “Who says I want you to enjoy it?”
“You did. The moment you called me your Peach. I’m special to you, aren’t I?”
He stays quiet, but his eyes bounce over my face, searching for my sincerity. I just hope I can convince him that it’s there.
Lifting my head from the pillow, I close the distance between our mouths while holding his gaze with mine. My chest rises and falls with an unsteady rhythm, but I pray he doesn’t interpret it for what it really is. Fear.
“We’ve never kissed,” I whisper, ignoring the way my stomach churns as his acrid breath fans against my cheeks.
“No,” he breathes.
“Can I kiss you?”
He tilts his head to the side but doesn’t refuse, so I do the honors and run my tongue along the seam of his lips. He tastes like sour milk mixed with a dirty ashtray.
I want to vomit, but I swallow it back.
His groan is animalistic as he tangles his fingers into the back of my head and pillages my mouth with his tongue. Sucking it into my mouth, the tears stream down my cheeks while my nightmares threaten to consume me. It’s too much. Too many memories. Too many senses on high alert, threatening to drag me back to the tortured girl I was in that room.
Focus, Q.
I hook my ankle around his leg the way Diece taught me and roll Sei onto his back so that I’m straddling him. His once liquid muscles turn rigid beneath me as if he’d anticipated my move before I grind my hips against him and bend forward to kiss him again.
“Shhh,” I whisper against his putrid lips. “Let me enjoy it.”
Then I slip my tongue back into his mouth and fake a long moan that would make a porn star proud.
With another groan, his hands find my ass and keep me in place, pushing himself against my core.
But that means he isn’t holding the knife anymore. And I’m in control on top. Just like Diece taught me. Continuing to kiss Sei, I blindly search for the forgotten blade on the mattress, but all I feel is the cotton sheets. His hand inches up my tank top, and I know I’m seconds from no return when a sharp bite of pain blossoms along my fingertips.
I found it.
Grabbing the handle, I take a deep breath then plunge the pointy end into Sei’s side with all of my strength. He shoves me off him, and I crash onto the ground with a hard thump as the blood seeps a few inches above his hip bone.
“What the hell did you do?” he shouts, his face red with fury.
I scramble back like a little sand crab toward the hallway. But he’s too quick. Too determined. Too filled up with rage and adrenaline to let the pain from his wound consume him for long enough to let me get away. Like a snake, his arm darts out and grabs my ankle. Then I’m dragged toward him. My screams feel like blades against my raw throat, but I don’t stop yelling, praying someone can hear me and will call the cops as I kick my legs