Part 12

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Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound coaxed me out of my slumber, and my eyelids felt heavy as I tried to look for the source of droplets. My body was upright- but that couldn't be right. I was asleep.

How can I wake up already standing?

Warm, yellow light flickered around me from a lamp that sat on the floor.

Without my glasses to help me quickly process my surroundings, my eyes strained to adjust, making me grunt weakly in frustration. Where was I? What happened?

I tried to recall.

Milo stood over me, his face imprinted on my mind like the devil himself. Spit had dribbled down his chin while lean muscle flexed with dominance, lash after lash atop my lower frame.

The memory summoned feeling in my legs and arms, the welts bubbling with pain at the forefront.

The shame, the pain... The pier. Zayn!

Remembering his hypnotic gaze chased the remnants of drowsiness from my body, and I yanked my hands forward to rub at my eyes but met with resistance.

I turned my head to either side of me- my arms fastened to a wall of rock with green, illuminating bonds up to my shoulders.

''No, no, no... no.''

I thrust forward, violently trying to free myself in vain. Flinging my head back against the damp, hard wall, I tried to level my breathing.

I knew better than to scream. As it was, I was alone and making a scene could end badly. This man indeed turned out to be dangerous, kidnapping me off the beach to god knows where.

I was in a small cave of some sort with black bars blocking the entrance.

Waltzing away in the opposite direction of my abusive husband toward the forgotten sanctity of the jetty had put me right in the grasp of a psychotic enchanter.

A laugh bubbled in my chest at the absurdity of it all and when I brought my head back, he was standing outside my prison with his shirt missing... and a bundle of fabric, the colour of kasha, draped over and between his legs down to his ankles.

His undress overrode my desire to gaze into his cajoling eyes- a territory I now knew forced my body and mind into submission numerous times.

''It's funny, you know?'' I ask, lingering on his broad chest, then tracing down to his sinewy forearm with my gaze, as he reaches for a padlock outside the gate.

Veins slithered under his golden skin like a snake wreathed around a vine as he twisted the key, popping open the lock.

I swallowed down the ever-growing anxiety.

''It's funny that you thought kidnapping me would get you anything of importance. I promise there will be no concession to the ransom,'' I say ever so quietly. ''No matter how low your demands.''

Keeping my eyes below his neck, I watched as his abs seesawed with every step, his v-line pulling down. My stare shot up, and I caught it on his silver nose ring before it could reach any higher.

''Will you not hold my gaze Balisier?'' His voice rumbled.

I watch as his plump mouth morphs into a grin- out of curiosity or sadistic intentions, I wasn't sure.

My next breath stumbled twice, trying to keep my composure while responding, ''I-I know better than to not, actually.''

He was close now, to where all I saw was honey skin and all I felt was heat. The tattoos on his hand and forearm were strikingly intricate when he raised his hand to pivot my chin higher.

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