Page 165 of The Carnage We Keep

“Arms behind your back.”

Electricity tingles over my skin as I quietly fold my arms at the small of my back. My bottom lip slips between my teeth as his eyes slowly and deliberately drag over my nude body.

I gasp quietly when he eradicates the last space between us, standing so close to me that my nipples are almost brushing his bare, slick, hard and grooved body. His mouth dips to my ear, and I bite back a whimper when I feel his hot breath ghost over my neck.

“You want me to fuck you, little nightmare?” he growls thickly.

I nod eagerly.

“Yes!” I choke.

“You want me to put you on your knees, use your pretty mouth, and then fuck your tight, greedy pussy until my cum is dripping down your fucking thighs?”

“Yes,” I whimper brokenly, gasping when his teeth graze the shell of my ear.

“I will,” he growls as his lips brush my ear. “As soon as you tell me why you freaked out so hard in the basement.”

It’s like somebody’s just dumped cold water over my head. My mouth works without any words.

For a second, I just stare at him. Then I let out a sharp, biting laugh.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He smiles. “Yep.”

“This is what we’re doing now?” I snap, backing away and folding my arms over my tits again. “Withholding sex until I provide satisfactory enough answers to your invasive, incredibly personal questions?!”

“I know you think I’m being an asshole⁠—”

“Cause you are!!” I blurt, my blood pressure spiking.

“Bella, I saw how it affected you.”

Black and red lines slash and stab across my vision as my throat tightens.

A red room.

A red night.

“You were terrified. I want to know why⁠—”

“God, you are such a fucking asshole!” I yell. “You want to know so badly?! You really just can’t help but dig into my personal trauma?! Fine! I got locked in a basement when I was a kid.”

It’s an incredibly broad-strokes version of the story. But there’s no reality where I tell Damiano the gory details about the darkest moment of my life.

“There!” I spit, grabbing my clothes and angrily yanking my shorts back up. “Happy now?! I got locked in a basement, and it obviously fucked me up, okay?!” I slide my t-shirt back over my head and whirl on him. “Mystery fucking solved.”

His brow knits and he stares at me for several long seconds. I can see a thousand questions behind his eyes, but to his credit, he doesn’t ask any of them.

Instead, his voice drops.

“Come here.”

I snort.

“Absolutely not.”

“Bella—”