Page 99 of Traded

If you’re in the fucking Stone Age.

But he doesn’t move, and I realize with a wash of cold ice over my skin that he really isn’t joking. This strange, cold alpha isn’t a version of Liam that I recognize.

Nor do I recognize the voice that comes from my mouth. That sounds cold too, and even. “Why don’t you make me? You’re good at that.”

“That’s unfair.” He lifts his hand. “Come on, Ro. You’re dragging this out.”

Damn right I am. “Unfair is punishing me for no fucking reason, Liam!”

He edges closer. “You can’t tell me you don’t see how your actions caused things to snowball with Carter tonight. You’re supposed to be his omega. Not whoring yourself out to the competition.”

I’m supposed to be Liam’s omega too, but that doesn’t seem to be a part of this conversation.

I flinch, and Liam presses forward. “He might be too weak to do what needs to be done with you, but I’m not. Getup. I’m done talking.”

My foot kicks out, connecting with his stomach and shoving him back as he grunts. Flinging myself from the couch, I race for the hall, trying to reach the bathroom with my phone clutched in my hand.

Someone will come—

They’re coming home. Any second—

I slam the door behind me with a sob in my throat, but it collides with Liam instead. He pushes inside the bathroom, his hand grabbing for my phone. “For fucks’ sake, Rosie. Stop looking at me like I’m going to hurt you!”

“You are going to hurt me!” My nails strike out at his face, but he shoves my hand out of the way. My phone smashes against the sink. “You’re alreadyfucking hurting me!”

He wraps his arms around my stomach and lifts me easily. My hands scrabble for purchase against the door frame, against the walls in the hallway, panicked noises sounding in my throat as Liam pulls me into my nest and slams the door.

“I’ll make this quick.” He drags me to the end of my bed, shoving blankets aside and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Let this be the first and last time, Rosie. Lay down.”

No.I fight him, but I’m no match for a nineteen stone enforcer. He bundles me over his lap, tugging at my trousers. “You’re going to count to ten, and then it’s over.”

My sobs fill the air, humiliation sinking into my skin with taloned hands as he exposes my ass to the air. We’ve played before, but not like this.

Never like this. “Stop.Please—”

His hand connects with my bare skin, a slap ringing out. My hair coats my face as I struggle, my mouth opening on a silent cry as my back arches and he pushes me back down.

“Count,” he says after a moment of shocked silence. “Or I start again, Rosie. I mean it.”

I know he means it. He never says anything he doesn’t mean.

And nobody is coming.

The fight leaves my muscles inch by inch, replaced by a trembling that attaches to every muscle as I lay over him, staring at the floor. My vision mists. “O-one.”

Again. This one is harder. Stinging.

And again.

Over, and over again.

When he’s finished, a voicelesstwelvehovers on my lips. His hand lifts from my back, but I don’t move.

Liam’s voice wavers. “It’s done. That’s the end of it.”

I don’t say a word as he carefully tugs my trousers back into place and helps me up. “You might be sore tomorrow.”

Taking a single step away from him, I look at the floor. “What now?”