Page 142 of Fatality

He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t roar.

He moves.

With a speed that blurs, he crosses the space. He doesn’t tackle me.

Just as my fingers brush the door handle, his arm snakes around my waist from behind, yanking me clean off my feet and back against his chest with brutal force.

I’m completely caged, his arms are iron-steel around me, blocking my arms from moving.

“Let go!”

I thrash against his grip, trying to break free.

In one swift, brutal motion, he yanks me away from the door and shoves me sideways.

I stumble, catching myself against the edge of the desk.

Before I can right myself, he’s on me.

He closes the distance, his body colliding with mine, using his weight and strength to drive me down across the hard surface.

He follows me down, pinning me beneath him, his knees on either side of my thighs, his hands grabbing my wrists and slamming them down onto the cold wood above my head.

“This is fighting,” he growls, his voice a low, thrilling vibration. “This is me, not letting you go. This is you, trapped. Staying.”

He grinds his hips down against mine, the hard ridge of his erection pressing insistently through our clothes.

A wave of heat and disgust travels me.

“You want to kill me? Go ahead.”

My chest rises and falls quickly, as I stare right into his gaze.

“Tick-tock, troublemaker.” His eyes gleam with something dark. “Choose.”

He brings one of my wrists toward his mouth.

I fight the movement, but he’s firm and utterly unyielding.

His lips brush my skin, and before I can tell him to fuck off—or do anything at all—he bites down.

A sharp gasp tears out of me. Pain explodes through my wrist.

I try to jerk away, but I can see my own blood welling around his teeth as he sinks them deeper.

I scream.

Rage crashes into me, tangled with pain.

Using his grip against him, I surge forward and slam my forehead into his face.

He ducks the blow.

The hand that had been gripping my other wrist above my head shoots to the nape of my neck, holding me there for a split second before he spins and slams me, chest-first onto his desk.

I cry out, more from shock than pain.

“Let go! I’m not staying! Go to hell!”