Red Thorns (Thorns Duet #1) by Rina Kent

I shudder, my back going rigid against his hard chest. He’s not even touching me, but my clit is throbbing and tingling in morbid anticipation.

Inhaling a deep breath, I whisper, “Do…I not get boundaries?”

“You only get that word. Use it wisely.” He releases me, and I stumble forward as the rumble of his voice echoes in the darkness, “Now, run.”

I hesitate for a second, contemplating whether or not I have the time to grab my phone. The shuffling of footsteps behind me erases that idea.

Not thinking twice, I bolt forward, metaphorically stabbing in the dark until I stumble over something. A table.

I grimace as the sting spreads through my feet, but I don’t stop. I feel around, my adrenaline level spiking until it’s pulsing in my limbs. My heart throbs as I squint, trying to make out anything in the darkness.

It’s strange how the senses sharpen when our vision is gone. I can feel the air forming goosebumps on my skin and smell the sweat trickling between my brows. But most of all, I can hear the thudding of footsteps behind me, of someone coming after me.

Just like that night in the forest, a strange aura overwhelms me and my senses sharpen until it’s scary.

I dash forward until I touch something. The railings. I grab on to them as I climb the stairs. Every now and then, I glance behind me and imagine a shadow on my tail.

Only it’s not my imagination.

He is right behind me.

I shriek as I start taking them two at a time. His thudding footsteps follow right after. Hard. The sound reverberates through my ears and chest.

The rush of energy is so high that I’m physically dizzy. My legs scream with pain and I trip, falling to my knees with a thud. I lose my balance and I’m about to fall backward, but I catch myself last second.

I don’t stand, though.

Or more like, I can’t.

Sebastian grabs me by the hair and I scream as he pushes me face-first into the stairs. My jaw hits the hard flooring and my eyes sting with tears from the impact. I think I’ve broken something, but apparently not since all I can focus on is the large body covering me from behind.

Swallowing me.

Dwarfing me.

Dominating me.

His hard chest feels like lava against my back. Loud thumps penetrate my ears and I’m not sure if it’s my heartbeat or his.

Or a mixture of both.

He grabs my shoulder blade hard. “Where do you think you’re going, my filthy little slut?”

My breath hitches, it’s in equal measure because of his words and the new depth in his voice. The raspiness in it as if he’s indeed a different person.

A stranger.

This is happening.

“I’m going to ram my bare dick into that tight cunt of yours and rip you apart and you’re going to take it like the dirty whore you are.”

Holy fucking shit.

Is it possible to come by just his words and his hold on me? Because I think I’m getting there.

This is crazy.

He’s crazy.

I’m crazy.

And yet, I buck against him, my ass nuzzling into the hardness of his cock.

It’s so thick and big, I feel it through my shorts. I feel how much it’ll hurt, how much I might not survive this.

But it’s impossible to stop, not when I’ve gotten this far.

“Do you really think you can fight me, slut?”

I don’t know what snaps me. If it’s the name-calling or the condescension in it, but I squirm as a roar echoes through the empty darkness.

Mine.

I twist around, squealing as I hit and claw anywhere I can touch him. His arm, his face, his shoulder. I don’t know, but I think I even rip his shirt.

My crazed movements are based on pure instinct, as if I’ve lost the rational, human side of me and I’m just an animal now.

Like him.

We’re both pure fucking animals.

He grabs both of my wrists and slams them above my head on the stairs as the shadow of his abdomen flexes over me.

I try to kick him as I wiggle, releasing god-awful raspy pants filled with the need to survive.

“Let me go, you fucking asshole.” I don’t recognize my deep voice and the throatiness of it. I sound like I’m really in danger. And maybe I am.

The only problem is that I want it.

Deep in the darkness of my chest, I fucking need it.

Slap!

I gasp as the sting registers on my face. He just…slapped me and…I’m wet.

Holy fuck. I’m really insane.

“Run your mouth again and I’ll fuck you raw in the ass.” He grabs my chin with his calloused fingers and shakes me, and I swear I’m dripping into my shorts.

I stop fighting for a second and he uses the time to release my wrists, grab my hair, and ram me against the stairs. I yelp and my hands shoot for him in a mad act of defense, but it’s too late. He’s already ripping at my shorts.

I kick my legs in the air, fighting with everything I have. I fight like I’ve never fought before until I actually believe that I want out of this, that this isn’t something I already agreed to by not saying that damn word.

Even in my madness, my strength doesn’t match his. He yanks the shorts off and throws them away, then all but rips off my panties. I gasp when the gesture creates friction against my swollen clit.

He slaps me on the pussy and I squeal, my back arching. The stairs feel so rough against my back, but even they add a strange sense of stimulation.