Today, I'm sharing another snippet from Break Me. This will probably be the last one I share from this story for now.
If you've read the novel and liked it, please remember to leave a review! <3
The monster lay dormant, until it saw her...
Every few years, the beast within Grisha Vasiliev rouses, clamoring for blood. When he sees Ayla Clark dancing, her movements exuding grace, passion and joy, he knows he must have her.
Grisha kidnaps Ayla expecting the usual: resistance, tears, pleas for mercy. But when Ayla breaks the mold, his whole world spirals out of control and feelings he thought he could never have again resurface.
He thought she was perfect, but she’s the broken doll on the shelf.
The last thing Ayla Clark remembers is celebrating her performance as Giselle and flirting with the handsome Grisha Vasiliev, the owner of one of the most prestigious ballet companies in the country. Now, she’s tied up and at his mercy, begging for more of his attention, while fighting to keep her own secrets buried in the dark.
Be Warned: BDSM, knife play, whipping
Gradually, cognizance returned. The weight of his arms wrapped around her. The soft material of his shirt rubbed against her cheek. His strength made her feel protected. Cared for.
Ayla swallowed. How could she be thinking that? He’d kidnapped her. Kept her locked up. Didn’t want to release her. Grisha Vasiliev was crazy. Dangerous. Her life was on the line. Fear
slithered down her spine and she shifted. His erection dug into her. Her pussy pulsed. Dear Lord, she wanted more. She was as bad as he was. Sick.
“Grisha, what are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“I should ask you the same.”
He disentangled himself from her and got to his feet. For a brief instant, she thought she saw pain flash across his face. He quickly replaced it with a mask of indifference.
“This has to end,” he said.
He scooped her into his arms and carried her downstairs. Ayla shut her eyes. Her mind reeled.
“Easy now,” Grisha said.
Setting her on her feet, she watched him pull a set of keys from around his neck and open the door to the left of the bedroom where he’d kept her. White light flickered on as they entered. Ayla gaped. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors covered the walls with wooden bars set in front of them, ready for rehearsal. In the corner, a tall shelf with an assortment of CDs and a state of the art music player. Behind it, a tall closet. Her blood froze as her gaze landed on the table next to it. The gleam of silver instruments made her knees quake. She took a step back, crashing into Grisha’s solid frame. He hugged her to him from behind.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Hush, sweetheart. That’s for later.”
She shook her head. Blood rushed in her ears.
“First, you have to dance,” he said.
His lips brushed her ear.
“Dance for your life, Ayla.”