Chapter Eleven
Safe word…
The term echoes between us as Zahir stares at me with his flashing dark eyes. For a few raw beats I wonder if I’ll have to explain—but then he’s across the room.
His hand whips out like a snake and fists in my hair. “Get off me!” I yell, scratching at his hand.
But with silent precision, he drags me across the room and only then does he let go of my hair…right before he throws me onto the bed.
I try to recover quickly, but he’s on top of me before I am even halfway turned around. The hand re-fists my hair and he pushes me down, cheek first, into the satin pillows, easily pinning me to the bed.
He’s so much bigger and heavier than me. I should give up. But I don’t. I fight with everything I’ve got, the line between reality and play blurring as I try to get up
