Twisted - Esme Devlin Page 0,75

switch… turns a key…

I don’t even know what he does but I can feel myself melting.

The sensations are utterly overwhelming.

There is no searching this time. There is no trying to chase that elusive, magical cliff.

No.

This sweeps me away and practically flings me over the edge.

He rests a clenched fist over the lowest part of my stomach and then pushes against me, hard. I almost come right then and there.

I can’t stop the sounds that are coming from my mouth. I stare into those dark shadowy holes where his eyes should be. I imagine him grinning. Smirking. Loving this lack of control I have over my body.

Loving the fact he can force it to do whatever he wants.

I hate him.

I hate him, but I don’t hate this.

Not at all.

I’m desperate for this. It’s as if my whole body revolves around the space between my legs. My knees go weak as fireworks explode inside my head. I almost buckle over in two—I would have if it wasn’t for the belt binding my arms and the pole impaling my body.

Baron steadies me, finally letting me hang my head. He pets my hair. I think he says I’m a good girl. I think.

It’s still buzzing between my legs and every second it continues, aftershocks jolt through my body. His hand moves around to the back of my neck and he rubs me there, leaning his head in close.

“You’re going to think about that line you just destroyed. You’re going to think about it long and hard. You’re going to think about what you’ll do to rebuild it. And, sweet girl, you’re going to pray those batteries run out before you do.”

With that, he drops his hand.

He drops his hand and he walks away.

21

Baron

Never has a woman made me feel formidable and weak, both at the same time. That is what she does to me. I can’t even explain it. I can’t wrap my head around it. I just know she makes me feel everything.

I never wanted that from a woman. I never wanted anything from a woman before her.

Some men want to own them.

I already own too many.

They’re commodities. A means to an end. Tiny cogs in a much bigger system. Seeing them as anything other than that is a dangerous game. It is unacceptable.

Until Sapphire.

Now I don’t just want to own her, I want her to crawl inside my ribcage and hide there. Hide away from all the chaos in this world that would eat her alive.

Except me.

She can never hide from me. She can’t ever escape me.

This world was made for me to eat her alive.

That outcome was inevitable from the moment I set eyes on her. She was the only woman still alive in the whole damn tent. On this whole godforsaken island. I didn’t even know I was hungry until that point.

What a sick and twisted thought that is, that her ability to flourish amongst ruins was the exact feature that sealed her decay.

My poor, sweet girl.

And she was beautiful. She is always beautiful, but that is when she is at her most astonishing. When she’s present. When her ill-suited eyes are speaking a language all of their own. One that I can read only on a primal level.

Her eyes when she is dancing to save her own life. Her eyes when she is grinding against me to save someone else’s. When she is tied up in front of me, her body falling into ruin but her eyes still there, still focused on me, still telling me that I’m her whole world.

I’m so tired of thousand-yard stares everywhere I turn.

And my little monster is never miles away. She is always in the room. Always looking for me.

I wish I could gaze into those eyes while I fucked her.

Perhaps I will.

She doesn’t even know what we’ll do together. The things I will bring her. The empire we will build. The legacy we will create.

I won’t stop until I’m sitting on a throne, and she is sitting on my knee.

But I do need to put a lid on my emotions.

She is still so new to everything… so fragile.

Every part of me is screaming to corrupt her, to make her the perfect reflection of me.

However, things should be done delicately.

Yes, she must fear me. Too much, though, and she will hate me. And not the sort of hate that a long night of being secured on my cock can fix. That hate is normal. Healthy, even.

I’m wary of the hate that festers and