“Help!” I yell at the top of my lungs until my throat gets scratchy. “Someone help me!”
Creighton remains unfazed by my calls, absolutely detached. The more I shout, the closer he comes, the coldness on his face matching freezing ice.
“No one can hear you,” he says, keeping up the cat and mouse chase. “This is a private island.”
“A what?”
“Private island. In the middle of nowhere. No one will be able to save you from me.”
I jump when something cold hits my leg. The water. I’m at the shore now, the sea of an island at my back and this emotionless man in front of me.
And I know exactly which option I’m willing to take. I dash in the direction of the water.
“Don’t,” his voice calls behind me.
But I’m not listening as I keep going on and on, despite the chattering of my teeth and the sting of the salty water.
“Annika, stop.” The authoritativeness in his tone would’ve brought me to my knees once upon a time.
Now, other things are at stake, so I ignore it.
Water reaches my waist but I keep pushing forward.
“Annika! It’s deep on this end—”
His words are cut off when I take another step and find no sand. I fall into the water with a sudden yelp.
I’m fully submerged within seconds. I try to swim up, but it’s like an invisible hand is pulling me into the depths of nowhere.
Bubbles explode from my mouth, and panic explodes beneath the surface. I’ve never been a good swimmer and always held on to a float in the pool, which I should’ve thought about when I chose the ocean
Shit.
I kick my legs underwater and fling my hands up, but the more I push, the lower I sink.
The light coming from above dims into a dark blue and my vision blackens.
If I’d known this would be the end, I would’ve…done something different.
I would’ve—
A hand grips me by the elbow and hauls me to the surface. I cough and splutter, unable to get the air in my lungs fast enough.
My blurry vision is half camouflaged by my hair, but I manage to focus on the man who’s gripping me by the waist. With one hand and bold strokes, he swims us in the direction of the shore.
His clothes are soaked, his hair sticks to his forehead, and a muscle clenches in his jaw.
It’s unfair that he looks drop-dead gorgeous. That he drips with feral masculinity without having to do anything.
It shouldn’t be allowed, not when I’m trying my hardest to make him cut ties with me.
Once we’re in shallow water that reaches our knees, I try to pull free. Not only does he not release me, but he also stops in the middle of the water and slams me against his front.
The breath is knocked out of my lungs as I stare up at his raging eyes. “Creighton…”
“Shut the fuck up, Annika. I’m so close to being completely unhinged. Don’t test me.”
“What’s wrong with you now?”
“What’s wrong with me? I don’t know. You tell me. Since you thought it was a brilliant idea to jump into deep waters.”
A map of shivers covers my skin, and it has nothing to do with the air and is more related to the lash of his voice, the worry in it, the care that he probably doesn’t want to show it.
My voice softens. “I didn’t know it was that deep.”
“Did I or did I not tell you to stop?”
“Well—”
“Answer the fucking question.”
“You did,” I whisper out of habit, then glare. “But you were blocking me. I had nowhere to go.”
“And you never will.” His lips slam against mine, and for a second, I’m stunned.
For a second, I think I’m back in that cruel dream’s clutches and imagining Creighton’s full lips on mine.
That thought is soon dispersed when he thrusts his tongue inside. One hand fists in my wet hair and the other shoves me against him by the waist.
Creighton doesn’t just kiss me, he ravages and devours me. It’s a clash of teeth, lips, and tongues. It’s an animalistic claiming meant to remind me that I’ve always belonged to him.
I plant both palms on his chest, trying to push him away, trying with everything in me to put an end to this madness.
But he delves deeper, kissing me harder, feasting on me in ways I thought would never be possible again.
And I just can’t fight him.
Physically, emotionally, or mentally.
Still, I manage to pull back, breathing heavily. “Don’t…Creighton…”
“Don’t what?” His grip tightens on my hair and his other hand cups my breast through the transparent dress and pinches an achingly hard nipple. “Touch you? Own you like you’re mine?”
A zap of pleasure starts where he’s touching me and ends between my thighs.
It’s been so long. And no matter how much I’ve touched myself, no matter how many times I imagined his face and his ruthless touch, nothing could bring me the unbound ecstasy only he can trigger.
“Just stop whatever you’re doing.” I dig my fingers in his hoodie. “Let me go home.”
“So you can be your parents’ perfect little doll and marry whoever they pick for you?”
“What if I do? It’s none of your business.”
“None of my business?” His voice darkens in sync with his eyes. They’ve become dim now, a pure imitation of a starless night.
He twists my nipple so hard that I gasp, but he doesn’t stop there. He tugs on my dress’s zipper and yanks it off me and then the bra follows. His hands are quick, meticulous, and so savage that I’m out of sorts.
My dress and bra are thrown to the shore, but my panties don’t have the same fate. He all but shreds them, letting the massacred pieces scatter in the ocean.
When he pinches my sensitive nipple again, it’s skin to skin, flesh to flesh, and with so much command that I melt. I’m so lightheaded that the crash of the waves against my legs causes me to sway.
“Everything about you is my fucking business.” He releases my hair to unzip his jeans and pull out his hard cock. “You might have thought it was over, but it’s not. Far from it.”
He hooks his hands beneath my thighs and lifts me up so that I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist and circle his neck with a hand.
The moment I search his eyes, he rams inside me in one go. My head falls on his shoulder from the force of it, coupled with a strangled sound.
It’s been only a month, but it feels like a year.
He stays there for a bit, unmoving for a second as we breath each other in, fall into the lull of us. The sound of the crashing waves echo around us as we dig our fingers into each, both literally and figuratively. Just when I’m falling into the moment, he thrusts all the way inside until I physically jerk.
Then he does it again, and again, ramming his cock inside me in a ruthless rhythm, fucking me, owning me.
Punishingme.
My head falls forward and I dig my nails into his back.
It’s a useless attempt to hurt him as much as he’s wrecking my world apart. He fucks me with enough command and assertiveness that I have no choice but to let it happen.
I want him with so much desire that drives me insane. I want him as wildly as he wants me.
“This cunt is mine. You are mine, Annika. Nothing and no one will change that. Not your father.” Thrust. “Not your brother.” Thrust. “Not even you.”
He’s like a madman. There’s no stopping him and certainly no reasoning with him. He drives inside me with a power that I’ve never felt before, and that says something since he’s always been intense in some way.
This time, he doesn’t even need to inflict any pain. He’s the pain that’s brimming with pleasure.
The sliver of light in the middle of the darkness.
He’s both day and night and I have no escape from his orbit.
“Creighton…” I moan, shoving a hand against his chest. “Slow down…I can’t take this.”
“You can. You always did.”
“This is too much.”
“You know what’s too much? Thinking you can marry some sorry fuck after I’ve claimed you. After I put my fucking mark on you.” He slides his hand up to cup my jaw, tilts it back, then bites on my throat. Hard. So hard that I gasp. “It’s believing I’d ever let you go.”
“But you hate my family,” I sob the words that have been plaguing me, the words that make this pleasure so screwed up.
“I can still fuck you.” His tongue darts out and he licks my tears as he whispers, “Remember this, Annika. There’s never been a day where you haven’t been mine.”
Then he drives so deep that he hits my sensitive spot over and over.
And over.
The moment his teeth find the sensitive flesh of my throat again, a powerful orgasm hits me and I release enough noises to disturb any living creature around.
Creighton doesn’t slow down, doesn’t take it easy, and he certainly doesn’t stop.
He goes on and on like a machine that’s bent on destruction. He fucks and spanks my ass. He pulls my hair and bites my neck, my shoulder, the top of my creamy breasts, anywhere he can reach.
By the time he stiffens and spills inside me, I’m spent.
Completely and utterly done.
“Mine,” he growls against my lips as he devours them again, rips them with his teeth, and fucks them with his tongue.
It’s a possessive kiss.
A declaration of a savage claim.
I can’t help the fresh tears that slide down my cheeks.
I hate myself for wanting the man who only sees me as a form of revenge.
I hate myself for not trying harder to run.
But I will.
Sooner or later, I will end this ill-fated relationship. This time, without getting my family involved.