She frowned and cursed him inwardly. 'What a beast. He knew it was my first time and still didn't hold back.'
All she remembered was crying miserably while he coaxed and kissed her, gentle and patient in his appeasement.
She remembered him propped above her, slick with sweat. His gaze was lowered, the veins on his neck bulging with restraint, yet his expression was tender and gentle—before he continued without a shred of mercy.
His ink-black eyes were filled with a wild, deep crimson, sparking a terrifying thought: 'It feels like he's trying to kill me right here.'
Boundless darkness enveloped her. Evelyn Grant's consciousness grew hazy and scattered, and she couldn't even remember what time he had finally let her go to sleep.
She was in the guest room now. The bed in the master bedroom was in no state to be slept in.
