Final Debt (Indebted #6)(55)

Cut brushed aside Nila’s hair, kissing the diamond collar. “God, that feels good. I hope you’re wet for me, Weaver. Because I can’t take much more of your teasing.”

Everything changed.

Nila’s hand ceased stroking. Her shoulders stopped quaking. And the room turned stagnant with possibility.

“I—I can’t—” Ripping her hand from his trousers, she shoved him hard. “I won’t!”

Cut wobbled from her push, his legs spread and jeans undone. The shadow of his erection tightened the fabric. His voice was blackness personified. “Think wisely, my dear. Are you sure?”

Nila nodded, frantically wiping her right hand on her leggings. “I won’t. I won’t grant you pleasure. No matter what you say. I won’t!”

Storm clouds covered Cut’s face. He lowered his jaw, glaring at her beneath his brow. “Have it your way.” Marching toward her, he grabbed her wrist. “This way, please.”

Nila looked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened, taking in my change of sitting upright to lying on the floor. Her features contorted with sorrow and guilt. I’m sorry.

I shook my head, dispelling ancient dust. Never. There’s nothing to be—

Cut forced her to turn, stealing our private moment.

Her feet stumbled as he threw her against the table at the perimeter of the room. Yanking out a chair, he shoved her into it. “Sit.”

She breathed hard, red spots of fear and fury on her cheeks. “Cut...please, whatever you’re about to do—don’t. Please.”

“You’re getting repetitive, Ms. Weaver.” With an angry swipe, Cut shoved the paraphernalia the mine workers had brought in and cleared a spot on the dirty table.

His hands shook as he rearranged his cock and zipped his jeans. His belt buckle clanked as he fumbled to do it up. “You could’ve paid the Third Debt without pain. I wouldn’t have hurt you. I would’ve even granted you pleasure.”

Nila spat on the floor. “Pleasure? Rape would never be pleasure. Your touch is grotesque.”

I sucked in useless air through my nose. Her strength astounded me but also pissed me off. Answering back would only deliver worse things. As much as it would’ve butchered me to witness the love of my life submit to my father, watching this…whatever this was…would be worse.

At least Nila would be intact.

You don’t believe that.

Her strength came from answering back and standing up for herself. If she let Cut willingly strip her of sexual rights and permit him to take her…I doubt her mind would remain so rebellious and untouchable.

Christ, I’m so sorry, Nila.

I wriggled on the floor, trying to get closer, doing my best to get free. Every inch of my body worked against me, slowly draining with every sordid breath.

Cut panted hard as he brushed back his hair, centring himself. “Give me your arm.”

Nila froze. “What? No? I won’t touch you again.”

“I didn’t ask for your hand, Nila. I asked for your arm.”

She slowly shook her head, crossing her arms defiantly. “You ask and I deny. No, you may not have my arm.”

“You’re wrong. I didn’t ask to begin with. I said give.” Cut’s anger rose to the surface. I was surprised he’d let Nila’s outbursts last as long as he had. No matter how he would deny it, Cut had feelings for Nila. Feelings he still nursed for her mother. He wanted her. He wanted to keep her. But it f*cking killed him that the daughter fell in love with his son when the mother cursed him to hell the day he took her life.

He’d given her a choice…

My mind skipped back to the private conversation I hadn’t meant to overhear. A week before the Final Debt with Emma, Cut had admitted to his Weaver prisoner he loved her too much to kill her. He wanted more from her. More time. More togetherness. He was willing to hold off the Final Debt indefinitely if she agreed to be his completely.

Marry him.

Submit to him whenever he desired.

His one condition for her life—she was forbidden from seeing Tex or her children ever again.

It was a testament of Emma’s love for her family and husband that she turned him down and chose death instead.

“For f*ck’s sake, give me your bloody arm.” Cut lashed out; snatching Nila’s arms and breaking the hold she’d formed. She struggled but was no match for Cut’s strength.

Slamming her forearm on the table, he growled, “Did you listen to the part of the story about smuggling diamonds?”

Nila wriggled in Cut’s possession, doing her best to take her imprisoned arm back. “Yes. I listened.”

“In that case, you’ll understand what the rest of the Fourth Debt entails.”

She stopped breathing. “No…I don’t…”

He chuckled, fighting her tugging, keeping her arm against the table. “Yes, you do.” Holding her down with one hand, he reached to the side with the other. Plucking a narrow stick from its resting place, he pressed it against her mouth. “Open wide.”

Her face arched away from the offer. “What? No.”

Cut pinched her arm. The shock stole her attention, parting her lips. Taking advantage, he slipped the stick inside her mouth so the ends stuck out either side of her cheeks. She looked as if she’d been bridled.