Chapter 4

I wake up to the sunlight sipping through the cracks of the white curtains of an unknown room. Sitting up, I look around the room and at myself. I'm only wearing a large black shirt, which I don't own, and my pink underwear underneath. What the hell? My eyebrows furrow as I try to remember what happened last night.

My eyes widen. I must have fallen asleep from last night and what I can't understand is why I have fallen asleep in my captor's arms. I'm completely stupid. Was last night only a dream? Where am I? What place is this? I need to find my way out of this hell before he finds me.

I stand up on the floor and head to the door. Thankfully, it isn't locked. The hallway is empty as I walk towards the end of the hall. Down the staircase, I end up in the kitchen. My stomach rumbles loudly when I see the fridge. I ignore my hunger, knowing it shouldn't be an issue right at this moment. I search the cabinets for knives. None. I lean against the counter and stand on my tiptoes, searching the cupboards.

I hear a silent curse behind me and I freeze. Turning around, I see my captor standing there staring at me. My eyes widen. He's tall and really handsome. His hair is a wild, chaotic mess but it's beautiful.

I catch his eyes and they're dilated. I have never seen someone's eyes this dark before. What totally shocks me is that he's half-naked. His bare chest is ripped and his muscles are well defined. Every indent is killing me.

He eyes me up and down and my whole body melts underneath his gaze. Can you blame me? I'm only in my underwear and tell me how I won't feel naked underneath his stare. He starts walking towards me in a predatory action and I back away, hitting the counter with my backside.

"Baby doll."

I freeze. Oh. My. God. This isn't fair! Why does he look so much like a fallen angel right now when he acted all too well like an evil man last night? Did he change my clothes? Did he rape me? God.

The anger gathers inside my chest and I desperately want to punch him. Slap him. Anything! I hate him. I hate him so much. He must have sensed my anger because I know very well how I'm glaring at him too much as if shooting daggers at his forehead. But that doesn't stop him from walking towards me.

He stops and stands in front of me, towering above me. It's not a surprise that I'm too small for his height so I come face to face with his bare chest. Right then, I remember last night. How he slammed me against his chest. How I felt his breathing against my skin and heard his fast beating heart underneath my ear.

"Look at me," he orders, lifting my chin and forcing me to meet his eyes. Even then, I keep my glare but he doesn't budge. He matches my own stare and places his hands past my sides and on the table as if to intimidate me and lock me.

"You're wearing my shirt," he murmurs, emphasizing his words by snaking his hands underneath the shirt I'm wearing and touching my sensitive skin. I shiver and I know he felt it because a smirk comes up on his face and he says, "I want it back."

"Don't touch me," I hiss as he plays with the waistband of my underwear. His eyes sparkle like he's enjoying my anger so much. He leans down and looks deeply into my eyes. He's challenging me. His eyes lower to my lips as he slowly descends. I can feel his warm breath fanning my face and, God, he smells good.

Is he going to kiss me?

The thought itself by every second is highly appealing. Every common sense I have in my brain is fading away. He smells so good but he's too close for comfort and I can't take it anymore. Just before he can lower his lips an inch to meet mine, I push him away. Hard. With all the strength I can muster. He doesn't stumble back too much but it's enough to give me some space to breathe and run away from him.

I don't even know where I'm heading to but before I can think about it, large hands envelope my waist and my back slams against a rock hard body. Gosh, he's fast! He growls and presses me against the table beside me so that I'm locked between him and the table.

Wait, did I just hear him growl? It can't be possible. Last night, I think I heard him growl too. And I heard him growl today. Is he a dog or something? I must be dreaming. Someone pinch me!

"Don't ever run away from me again!" he roars behind me and I feel everything underneath me shaking.

"Or what?" I retort through gritted teeth. Is he insane? He can't just order me around like a slave! I'm a human, too, and I have dignity. How can he be so cruel?

"I'll take you on this table," he warns and to punctuate his warning he presses himself firmly against my backside and I feel his little friend hardening against me. I freeze. Will he force himself to me? The thought of me and this beast doing it together in this position makes me want to claw my eyes out. I just can't picture it. It's disgusting. I have goosebumps just thinking about it.

He senses it. He smells my fear and I think he likes it because he kisses my bare shoulder which is shown by the large black shirt I'm wearing which is his. I shiver when I feel his lips lingering on my skin and I feel it all the way down my spine. Butterflies erupt in my stomach. No one has ever kissed me there before.

He continues kissing my shoulder and brushes his lips up the bare side of my neck. It's a wonder why my hair seems to be out of his way. His lips are soft and warm. It's definitely against his physique. His lips run along the end of my jaw as he slightly bites my ear. I have no idea what the hell he's doing but it feels weird and strangely.. pleasurable.

God, what am I thinking? I didn't even realize I'm already closing my eyes and tilting my head a little as if offering him more access. His hands go underneath the shirt I'm wearing and his fingers brush against my underwear, rounding my hips and touching my stomach. I clench my fists.

"Stop," I rasp, my voice husky. Even I don't recognize my own voice.

Grunting, he turns me around and quickly grabs me, easily throwing me over his shoulder. I meet his bare back. He has a very beautiful back and since he's walking towards God knows where, his tattoo and defined muscles ripple in every movement.

"Put me down!" I demand, reddening in anger. He just threw me over his shoulder and I know my butt is hanging over in display! This is so embarrassing. I've never been one to be too comfortable with my body.

He puts me down and places me on a stool behind a table. A pretty girl walks in and places a plate of lasagna in front of me. I notice how she doesn't look up at me nor at him. She keeps her head lowered and her eyes out of view beneath her thick bangs until she walks out of the kitchen without a single word.

A hand slamming on the table brings me out of my gaze. I look up.

"Eat," he commands and his voice leaves no space for discussion.

My eyebrows knit together and my hands clench on my lap. "I'm not a child," I hiss through gritted teeth.

"Then stop acting like one," he retorts.

"And stop acting like you're my father."

"You're being difficult. Just eat the damn food."

I cross my arms over my chest. "I'm not hungry," I say stubbornly.

His nostrils flare and I can almost imagine his ears smoking. "Eat or you won't like what I'll do to you on this table," he warns darkly, his eyes dilating.

•

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