The moment the door opens, I see it in her eyes. Recognition. Horror.
Fear.
She knows who I am. What I am. And she knows I wonât hesitate to hurt her if she doesnât obey.
What she canât possibly know is how much I want her. How much I ache to feel her soft skin beneath my fingers, to claim her body in every brutal, violent way only a man like me can imagine.
But no matter how beautiful she is, all tied up and helpless, no matter that her pleas for mercy tug at the heart she doesnât believe I have, giving her even a second of tenderness is a liability. A weakness I canât afford.
Because Iâm a wanted manâĻ and I will die before I let them drag me back to that hell they call prison.