I want to cut it open with my knife and flounder in its blood.
I want her blood.
Calm the fuck down.
I have to remind myself of that constantly whenever Cecily is involved.
After extending the ride for as long as possible, just so I can feel her jump, shake, and squirm, I arrive at the abandoned property I bought about a year after I got to Brighton Island.
Cecily flinches in sync with the creaking of the gate.
“What…” She clears her throat. “Why have you brought me here?”
Her question is eaten by the wild wind and scattered all over the sky. The vibration of her spooked voice hardens my cock in an instant.
Well, fuck.
Looks like she’s not the only one who’s deeply affected by this place.
“Jeremy…”
And I’m harder, just at the sound of my name in her voice.
What the fuck am I? A teenager with no control over his libido? Why would this fucking girl have so much of an effect on me without even trying?
I ignore her as I ride my bike inside. Despite not using any underhanded methods, she’s glued to my back and I can feel her watching our surroundings.
Nothing has changed since the last time she was here. The property is still barely kept, with wild bushes and unwanted grass everywhere.
The night makes it more ominous, distraught, and gives it a high possibility of turning into a hunting site.
I park the bike in front of the old cottage and kill the engine.
Cecily releases me with a jerk as if just realizing she’s been hugging me, but she doesn’t hop down from the bike when I do.
I remove my helmet, hang it on the clutch, and raise a brow. “Are you going to stay there all night?”
She lifts off her own helmet, letting her witch-like hair fly in the wind, stab her eyes, and create a mess against her face. “If need be.”
“You’ll freeze. It’s cold tonight.”
“I’d rather freeze to death than follow you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous and quit the dramatics. They don’t suit you.”
“So now you know what suits me and what doesn’t?”
“For the most part.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Are you going to come down?”
“No.”
We stare at each other for a beat.
Two.
Three.
I stride toward her and she shrieks when I lift her lithe body and effortlessly throw her over my shoulder.
This will be a long fucking night.
And I’ll enjoy every second of it.
19
CECILY
What the actual hell?
In the beginning, I’m stunned into silence, completely caught off guard by the sudden change of events. Soon after, everything explodes into focus and I’m assaulted by sensory overload.
My middle easily bends on Jeremy’s rock-hard shoulder as he imprisons me in place with a mere arm around my legs.
Blood rushes to my head, both due to the position and the way he’s manhandling me.
I ball my hands into fists and bang at his back. “Let me down!”
The more I hit, the farther he marches into the cottage as if I’m banging on a wall and not his physical body.
“Jeremy!” I scream his name, hoping someone will hear and save me from his barbaric clutches.
No one does.
No one will.
Instead of taking me to the Heathens’ mansion or a public place, he strategically chose this secluded gothic cottage where no one will be able to stop him.
Like two weeks ago, it’s just me, him, and the creepy night animals outside.
Unlike back then, however, I didn’t come of my own accord. He forced me and threatened to expose me in front of everyone I care about.
He twisted my arm and crossed a line that should never be crossed.
The moment I start to forget his monstrous nature, his devil peeks out his head, ready to destroy every normal thought I had about him.
Jeremy hits the light switch on the way inside the cottage’s living room. His measured steps fall with a thudding sound on the wood flooring.
With every move, every breath, and every squeeze of his large, powerful hand on my thighs, he’s engraving his presence deep in my chest.
It’s like I’m being carried by a giant.
He oozes masculinity, whether it’s his height, enormous build, harsh features, or skin-chilling scent.
He’s toxic masculinity, though.
When he reaches the middle of the room, he places me on my feet with a softness that startles me. I don’t know why I expected him to throw me on the nearest object just to prove a point.
I take a few steps back, scanning the space for an escape. Aside from the front door, there’s the stairs and another door that leads to the kitchen.