Free Angel by Alexia Stark Page B

her head. Catching her breath, she spun, holding out her hand.
    “Give me my keys. I’m leaving.”
    “No.” He folded his arms. “You’re in no condition to drive.”
    “Then drive me home. I’ll drive you back tomorrow.”
    “No.” The harsh word infuriated her, but she bit her tongue. He continued, “So, tell me, what did I ruin?”
    “You don’t give up, do you?” She exhaled sharply, the sound almost an angry laugh.
    “That’s the third time I’ve asked. Don’t make me ask again.” His face tightened with anger, and she rolled her eyes.
    “Fine. I wanted you to be my first.” The words hung between them, but he didn’t bat an eyelash.
    “I’m your brother.” The mater-of-fact statement stung, and she swallowed the quick burst of pain.
    “Not by blood. And before today, I would have sworn you’d never hurt me.” Aware of how unfair her words were, she watched him, trying to keep her welling apology out of her eyes.
    “You don’t get it. I would.” He turned and walked up the porch into the house, and she hesitated, before following. Disbelief flowed through her, and she grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around in the hall.
    He spun, his hands biting into her shoulders. “I wasn’t kidding.” He glared down into her eyes, but she shook her head, her chest aching.
    “You wouldn’t.” Tears filled her eyes, and she hated the way her voice broke.
    He released her and ran a hand through his short dark hair. “Don’t test me. You’ve already pushed me too far.”
    Once again, fury ripped through her. She shoved him back, shouting at him. “I’ve pushed you too far? You’re the one running away!”
    He glared at her, his voice rising. “Because I can’t stand being around you. I want to hurt you, Angel.”
    Her hands dropped from his shoulders as if he’d burned her. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. She backed up as he straightened, advancing on her in the confined space.
    “I think you do.” He pressed both palms to the walls beside her, boxing her in, trapping her. He lowered his face until only inches separated them. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I want you to scream under me. I want you to beg. I want to see how much you can take before you come, before the pain overrides the pleasure. Why do you think I’ve trained you to listen to me all these years?”
    His voice rose. “I’ve taught to you follow my orders, to do as I wish. I told you to stop cutting, and you stopped. I told you to get A’s. You did. I taught you to follow my orders without thought. Why do you think that is?”
    Staring up at him, she opened her mouth, shock rendering her voice to a mute squeak.
    He answered for her. “So that day, when you came to my bed, begging me to take you, I’d have control. You’d trust me wholly. Do you hate me now?”
    Unable to speak, barely able to breathe, she stared into his eyes. She shook her head no, and his lips dropped to hers, punishing, hot, dangerous.
    He released her, and her voice trembled as she whimpered, “How did you know?”
    “That you’d come to my bed?” He smiled, his forehead pressed to hers. “I know you, Angel.” He kissed her again, his hunger deeper this time, and she shivered. His hands found hers, pressing them to the wall, holding her captive. She arched into him, thrusting her breasts against him.
    “To be honest,” he murmured against her lips, “I didn’t expect you to take so long.”
    “Would you have, before?”
    “No, not before you were eighteen.” His hot breath rushed over her face, the sharp tang of mint driving her mad. She moaned, pressing to him, but he turned, walking away.
    “I need to unload some things.”
    “I can help.”
    “Better you didn’t.” He threw her a glance over his shoulder, and she flinched a the raw hunger and power he exuded. Ignoring him, she followed, questions bubbling up.
    “I didn’ t think the Dom-Sub relationship actually involved hurting the other. It’s all about