Lyla's POV
I should be scared. I should run. I had never seen him this worked up about something. Every time in the past, when he got mad, he left and, before I got to know him, I would have been terrified of the man in front of me, but now I wasn't. In fact, the sweaty body and the scowl on his face, well it was hot, really hot, and it didn't help that he was holding my hands over my head.
"Peaches, last chance," he said, moving closer to me and burying his face in my neck.
"I don't want to leave," I whispered.
"I won't be loving and kind."
"Maybe I want it rough."
"You don't know what you're saying."
"Maxten, I want you to f**k me. I don't want soft and loving. I want you to push my boundaries," I told him, and I'm not sure why, because it could have a really bad effect o
