Pennies (Dollar #1)(54)

“Look at me.” His voice turned gruff as his hand moved, whispering with sin.

Pinching my thighs to retain some sort of dignity, I did as he requested. This time, I couldn’t stop my fascination as I drank all of him. From the way his lips glittered, to his stomach rising and falling and his dragon twisting beneath the optical illusion of rib bones.

“Remember, what I do, you do.”

My mouth parted in shock.

He…he wants me to touch myself?

I’d never touched myself.

First, because a strict mother, who barged into my room at all hours with no care for my privacy, raised me, and second, because I lived with a master who made me despise all nether regions.

Why would I want to touch myself?

Why molest that part of me when it was molested far too often already?

He bit his lip again, this time sucking the wet flesh into his mouth as his arm bunched. “Do you want me to treat you like a whore? You’d rather obey demeaning demands than answer a few simple questions?” His voice gruffed to a growl. “You’ll learn to make better choices soon enough.”

Our eyes locked before a panic attack latched onto my lungs like a parasite. I can’t believe I felt safer with this man—that I thought he was different.

His face clenched with frustration as I dropped my eyes, letting him have authority.

“Tell me where you came from. Tell me who stole you and how Alrik ended up with you. Give me that and I’ll wrap you in your bed sheet and protect you for the remaining hours we have together. Don’t answer and you’ll wish you had.”

I trembled, hating the way my back rolled on its own accord, making me smaller, tighter—invisible.

Time stretched onward.

Finally, he sighed heavily. “Is talking worth that much to you?” He jerked his hand from his trousers. “In that case…let’s see how much your voice is worth when everything else is on the line.”





I WAS MANY things, but an abuser, rapist, and f*cking bastard were not part of my abundant faults and flaws.

Yes, I’d entered Alrik’s house ready to take what belonged to him.

Yes, I’d had impure intentions of using her for my pleasure.

I’d even convinced myself she wasn’t my problem—just a sweetener to our business deal.

But then she’d taken off her dress.

And I just couldn’t f*cking do it.

How could I get hard over a girl who had so much strength in her heart but so much abuse painted on her skin? Her silence wasn’t the defiance I believed. Her muteness wasn’t courage or guts. It was the only damn thing she had left.

And I want to steal that over anything her body can give me.

I’d threatened her with sex. I’d stuck my hand down my pants, forcing her to believe I’d f*ck her anyway. Instead of terror and disgust, she watched me with cold resignation. She’d lived in a world of pain and forced sex for so long, it was boring to her. Something expected and extracted while she remained hidden in her silent fortress, giving up her body in order to keep her mind.

Fuck, that earned my respect.

But it also pissed me off.

Broaching the moat of her thoughts wouldn’t be a simple attack but a full-on siege.

Ignoring my open trousers and naked chest, I shot upright, once again mirroring her on her knees. The tightness of my boxer-briefs hurt my cock. I despised that, despite my repulsion of her bruises, I couldn’t ignore my lust.

Or was it abhorrence?

No…

I knew what it was, and it tainted everything—every breath and glance.

Shame.

She filled me with f*cking shame.

Her eyes followed me, hiding whatever she thought. The only way to crack her was to confuse her. Turn her in circles, blindfold and enrage her. Then perhaps, she’d break her voiceless oath and give me what I wanted.

“I requested one night with you because I believed you were like me.”

She froze.

Had she met someone who used honesty for his benefit all while hiding his past? Did she care that I tasted her thoughts of suicide and understood what that felt like? That I’d once been as hurt as her but won over those who’d ruined me?

She didn’t deserve to know because she refused to share a single thing in return.

Pim bowed tighter in her kneeling position. Ugly hair hung around her face, casting shadows over her eyes, preventing me from seeing her secrets.

Not permitted.

Life hadn’t always been so black and white. I’d justified my means even while committing a crime—just like I was doing now.

It made me a shitty human being, but so what?

When I was starving and living on the streets, no one gave me a jacket to keep away the snow or bought me a meal to ensure I survived another day.

I was an inconvenience. An eyesore.

She’s not an eyesore.

Even malnourished and far too skinny, she had a certain beauty about her. Her green eyes were the largest I’d ever seen. Her dark hair hung limp and lifeless, but the colour still spoke of a richness that hadn’t entirely dulled. However, that hair prevented my ability to read her.

“Do you have a rubber-band?” Leaning forward, I scooped her dark strands and tugged them to her nape.

She shivered—her skin breaking into goosebumps. I waited for a twitched eyebrow or slight twist of her lips. I wanted to know what she thought about me touching her this way.