Page 86 of The Darkest Hour

And now I felt like he was back in control.

I clenched my teeth and fought back the urge to cover myself again. I couldn't show him how vulnerable I felt in this moment, couldn't afford to give him even more satisfaction.

Once I was done, I threw away the soiled fabric and quickly tugged my panties back in place.

Havoc groaned one more time. “Pity.”

I ignored his comment and stood up slowly. My legs were shaky from the awkward position and the odd emotional toll of those last few minutes.

My gaze remained fixed on the ground, unable to meet Havoc’s eyes, unable to confront the reality of what had just happened.

What made it even crazier was that I could still feel his wicked gaze still lingering on the spot between my legs.

The forest went still, holding its breath as if it had witnessed something forbidden, something that shouldn't have happened. And unfortunately, the echoes of what had just occurred still reverberated through me, making my skin tingle and my heart race.

Why do I feel this way? It’s so weird.

And even crazier, I still couldn't look at Havoc.

The weight of what had transpired hung heavily between us.

My mind shifted into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—disgust at myself for the way my body had oddly reacted, fury at him for pushing me into such a degrading situation, and a sliver of fear for what this meant about who I was becoming.

No. I’m not changing. He’s not doing anything to me. This is just. . .today. This whole fucked up day.

I had wanted to hold onto my dignity, but he had stripped that away as easily as he had torn off my bodysuit. Yet standing here in the aftermath, I felt something more.

Something I wasn’t ready to admit.

I kind of. . .enjoyed that. Or did I? What am I missing?

Havoc’s eyes were still on me. I could feel his gaze like a physical touch, tracing over my body, lingering on the places where he had forced me to expose myself. There was no escaping him, no hiding from the way he had invaded my most private moment and turned it into something sick and twisted.

And. . .yet. . .I felt like I was in control and relished in it. Why?

I could still hear the sound of his groans in my head, the way his breath had hitched as he watched me, his hand working over his cock as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He had enjoyed every second of it, had reveled in my humiliation.

But had I not reveled in his need to see my urine too? What is this. . .perversion?

I forced myself to stand up straight, to lift my chin and meet his gaze head-on.

I could tell that he was loving his position as my predator, and I was currently playing the role as his prey, I refused to be easy game.

“How do you feel?” He started to move then, slowly, deliberately, each step measured and careful as if he were approaching a wild animal that might lash out at any moment.

I refused to speak.

“Aww. Nothing smart to say right now?” He kept coming closer.

When he reached me, he stood right in front, so close that I could feel the heat of his body, could smell the scent of sweat and the forest on his skin.

“You did well, wildcat.” He pulled out the rope from his pocket.

“I don’t need my hands bound.”

“You do.”

“You said yourself that I was a good girl.”