Breaking Meredith

by Izzy Sweet

  “Just like my hellcat sister is all yours, Simon,” he laughs an evil sounding chuckle.

  I have no clue how he knows that nickname, but he does. As much as the men call me the Spider because I can find out just about anything… Lucifer knows things that no man should be able to know.

  “One thing though, Lucifer… I thought you should know she got ahold of some bleach and has changed her hair color.”

  “Please tell me it’s a natural color, Simon. I can’t deal with a purpled-haired woman in my life. I already have Evelyn asking to dye her hair her school colors.”

  “Oh, it’s natural alright. She looks exactly like you now.”

  “Fuck me,” Lucifer says before he disconnects his phone.

  Good. He deserves a tiny bit of the heartburn she’s been causing me.

  What in the hell did he mean she’s all mine now though? Does he know? Has he read my inner mind? Does he know the ache she has caused inside of my chest? The deep down red ball of heat that burns through my body at the thought of her?

  I stand up straight for a long moment, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly through my nose. Looking at myself in the mirror yet again, I look at the branding she has put on my body.

  On my mind, on my inner self.

  I don’t have a soul… or if I did, it was destroyed long ago. What inside of me has she stolen from me? What has she taken? Why does she have this hold on me? I’d pay anything to know.

  Hurried thoughts of her chained to the bed rush through my head. Her eyes flaring with hatred. Her lips parted slightly, looking delicate enough to bruise when kissing. Her pantyhose with the small runs being torn by my strong hands.

  A bloody bite mark on her shoulder to match the one she gave me.

  A cold chill runs down my spine and it has nothing to do with the temperature of the house.

  Walking over to the shower, I turn the cold water on full blast.

  Stepping into the water helps me bring myself back to center. To even out my mind and body.

  I’m going to need a centered sense of self if I’m going to go back into that room with Meredith.

  6

  Meredith

  I scream and scream until my throat is raw, but eventually give up. I don’t know if Simon can even hear me, but if he can, he’s probably just getting off on it. I hate him. God, how I hate him. I despise the pencil-pushing geek with every fiber of my being.

  And I will get my revenge. Somehow, someway, he’s going to pay for this.

  No other man has ever had the balls or audacity to do something like this to me. Not even Ahmed.

  Fuck… Ahmed. His face flashes through my mind, the image of the last time I saw him. The surprised gape of his mouth. His flailing arms. His stumbling Italian leather shoes. The horror in his eyes just before he fell over the edge…

  No, no. Don’t think of that. Get your shit together and figure a way out of this.

  Taking a few deep, calming breaths, I clear my mind as I stare up at the ceiling.

  The handcuffs hold no matter how hard I yank on them. Of course the frame of the bed Simon cuffed me to just has to be made out of strong, black metal rods that show no sign of bending or breaking. As much as I wish my anger and adrenaline would give me a burst of superhuman strength, I’m actually pretty weak and helpless.

  I spend a few minutes trying to slip my hands out of the cuffs, but he snapped them on so tight there’s absolutely no give.

  Bound to the bed like I am, there’s nothing I can do but try and figure out a way to get out of this. If I want to get out of this, I know it’s going to have to be by pure wit and manipulation.

  But how do I manipulate a man who seems to hate me as much as I hate him?

  Threats don’t work on Simon. Nor do sexual advances.

  Ugh. For the first time in my life I wish to god I had a dick, so I could get myself out of this mess.

  Seconds tick by. Seconds that turn into minutes. My wrists and shoulders begin to ache from all the yanking I did.

  What the fuck motivates the man? Money? Power?

  I could try to bribe him, but thanks to him and Matthew, I don’t have access to any of my accounts. Those millions from my marks are out of reach until further notice.

  I could play nice, but he’ll see right through it. Weak? Repentant? That will probably work better, if I can keep myself from snapping at him.

  Who am I kidding? Simon brings out the worst in me. He’s bound to do or say something that pushes me over the edge of insanity.

  If he ever comes back.

  He could just leave me here to rot. It’s what I would do if I were him, but then again I’m a cruel bitch.

  I stare at the blank white ceiling for what feels like an eternity. My eyelids start to grow heavy. After all the energy I’ve expended trying to escape, I feel utterly exhausted.

  I begin to drift off.

  Then the door clicks open.

  My eyes flicker open just enough for me to watch Simon stride into the room through the veil of my lashes.

  He’s shirtless, dressed in only a pair of fresh dark slacks. His hair is soft and brushed back like he just washed it. His glasses are gone and so is his watch.

  My muscles want to tighten with anxiety, with anticipation, but I fight it.

  Relaxed. I must remain relaxed if I want to appear truly contrite. I want him to think I’ve learned my lesson.

  He pauses just inside the doorway and the door clicks behind him.

  Glancing at the bed, he seems unsure. Good. If he’s not set on further punishing me then there’s a fair chance I can still manage to get myself out of this.

  He begins to walk slowly towards the bed and I can’t stop myself from admiring the way his body moves. Especially all the muscles that ripple on his chest.

  So that’s why he was so heavy when he pinned me to the bed...

  Beneath his dark suits he’s been hiding a rather impressive body. He’s all lean, tightly packed coiled strength. The way he walks towards the bed kind of reminds me of a big stalking cat.

  It’s a sin, really, such a body is obviously wasted on him.

  Stopping beside the bed, he frowns down at me. “Meredith.”

  Peering up at him through my lashes, I try my best to keep my expression neutral, but it’s a struggle. Especially when I catch a glimpse of the stitched-up bite mark on his shoulder.

  My lips want to pull into a smug grin. I did that. I made him bleed.

  I fucking marked him.

  “Simon,” I say and then lick my lips.

  I can still taste a hint of him.

  Simon’s frown grows even deeper as his eyes follow my tongue as it runs along my lips. If he were anyone else, I’d take it as a sign that he’s interested… but I know he’s not.

  A couple of heartbeats pass.

  Then he asks, “If I uncuff you, are you going to act civilized?”

  And there he goes being an asshole again. Me? Uncivilized? He’s the one who handcuffed me to a fucking bed!

  Taking a deep breath, I swallow back my anger. It will do nothing but hinder me here.

  Eyes on the prize, Meredith.

  Simon’s eyes drift down, locking on the rising swells of my breasts before flicking up again.

  What the fuck? Maybe I pegged him wrong. Maybe he is interested…

  “Yes,” I exhale and peer up expectantly at him.

  I shift just a little bit, just enough to slide my dress up even more, exposing my thighs to him.

  Once again, his gaze drifts down, and my heart begins to race with excitement.

  Holy shit, so maybe Simon isn’t gay…

  His eyes trace back up my body and lock on my face, cold and expressionless.

  Or fuck, maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

  Reaching into his pocket, Simon pulls out a small set of keys and fingers them. It’s obvious he’s conflicted about releasing me, but I also think he’s doing it just to taunt me.

  Remindi
ng me that he literally holds my freedom in his hands.

  “If you fucking bite me again…” he warns, and again I have to hold my smug grin back.

  “I won’t, I promise,” I say instead.

  Simon gives me a look like he doesn’t believe me.

  He shouldn’t. If I could get away with it, I’d chew through his fucking neck.

  “I’m serious, Meredith. If you fucking bite me, there will be dire consequences.”

  Oh, dire consequences. I’m shaking in my boots. What’s he going to do? Keep me handcuffed to this bed until I piss myself and starve to death? He can’t. Matthew won’t let him. My stepbrother and I may hate each other, but we’re still family and there’s an unspoken agreement between us.

  Matthew won’t try to snuff me out until I become a danger to his family or too much of a burden to him.

  And I don’t think we’ve reached that point yet.

  It takes every ounce of my willpower to keep from snapping at Simon as he just stands there, fingering the keys in his hands. I want to yell at him what’s taking him so long? Is he that much of a pussy? Scared of a little woman handcuffed to a bed?

  But that’s probably exactly what he wants so I keep myself under control. Promising myself I’ll pay him back for this.

  Finally, he takes a step closer and leans over the bed. Angling himself in a way that avoids any part of his body getting near my face.

  Going for the hand closest to him, he grabs my arm roughly in one hand while the other unlocks it.

  As soon as the handcuff opens, I just let my hand drop. What I really want to do is claw his fucking eyes out, but that won’t get my other wrist unlocked, will it?

  Simon hesitates. In order to unlock my other wrist, he’s going to have to lean across my body to do it.

  I’d bask in his hesitation if I wasn’t so worried it would stop him.

  Simon glances down at my face, but I just stare at him. He keeps his gaze trained on my face as he slowly leans over me.

  The bed dips as one of his knees comes down on top of it. I flex the fingers in my free hand and roll my wrist to work some of the stiffness out of it.

  Simon’s face looms closer and closer.

  So close, it would take no effort at all to lean up and bite him again.

  I don’t know why, but I have this unexplainable urge to sink my teeth into him. There’s just something in him that brings out all these primal urges in me.

  No other man has ever affected me in such a way. No other man has ever made me feel so much that I can’t contain it.

  I stare into his face, into his eyes. Without his glasses, he doesn’t seem so closed off. It’s almost like a barrier has been removed between us.

  Grabbing my cuffed arm, he struggles with trying to unlock it without looking at it.

  The corners of my lips start to tip up of their own volition.

  His eyes lock on my mouth and an unmistakable flash of heat, of want, flares inside them.

  Oh shit, maybe I wasn’t wrong earlier… maybe he does want me.

  Partly out of curiosity, and partly because I just want to fuck with him, I arch up and close the little distance between us.

  Before he can react, I press my lips against his in an experimental kiss.

  He immediately freezes and his eyes widen.

  A zap flows through me so strong I jerk back.

  What the hell was that?

  My heart starts to race, beating a frantic rhythm inside my chest.

  I was only trying to fuck with him. I wasn’t actually expecting to feel something…

  Simon growls low in his throat and I watch in growing horror as the expression on his face darkens.

  I try to pull away, to escape, but it’s too late.

  He grabs me by the hair and yanks me back.

  Fuck. I pushed too far and something inside him has snapped.

  His eyes flash and I experience a moment of pure terror as he growls out my name in a slow caress, “Meredith.”

  Before I can take a breath, before I can tell him no, don’t, or even beg please, his mouth crushes against my mouth in a soul-shattering kiss.

  I don’t want this, I don’t, I have to remind myself as my entire body lights up, coming alive under the press of his lips.

  I don’t like him, I fucking hate him, I repeat inside my head as I close my eyes and try to fight back the unwanted sensations.

  But it’s no use. Closing my eyes only seems to heighten my awareness and all the sharp sensations flowing through me like a current.

  A current that is directly connected to him.

  This is nothing like the times I’ve kissed all those other men. Those kisses were so cold and repulsive I could remain in my head.

  When his tongue sweeps into my mouth and meets my tongue, my bones want to melt into the bed.

  This is madness. Utter fucking madness.

  As his weight comes down on top of me, a small, primal part of me welcomes it. Needs it, in fact. Needs him on top of me…

  I don’t understand what is happening. Why is my body betraying me like this?

  I reach up and try to push him away with my free hand, but he grabs it and pins above my head.

  Shit, oh shit.

  I try to turn my head away, but with his hand in my hair I’m trapped. I can’t escape him.

  His tongue strokes against my tongue, hungry and demanding, and the jolt of pleasure that cuts through my core is so strong, so damn amazing, my hips lift off the bed.

  With each suck and pull of his hungry mouth, my resistance breaks down, fleeing me. Slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

  I have to stop this. I have to put an end to this before there’s no turning back. In an act of pure desperation, I bite down on his tongue.

  Simon grunts in pain and rears back.

  Releasing my wrist, he lifts his hand to his mouth, and there’s this hurt look on his face as his fingers probe at his bloody tongue.

  I feel a pang of guilt but quickly shove it away. He should be thankful I didn’t bite the damn thing off.

  Twisting around, I grab the set of keys he dropped on the bed. Snatching them up, I immediately and frantically try to unlock my handcuffed hand.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Meredith…”

  I slam the key home and nearly snap the damn thing in half as I twist it. The handcuffs click and open.

  I yank my hand free and jump up from the bed.

  Simon’s hands come around my waist and I scream in fear and fury as he hauls me back.

  “That was very, very stupid,” he growls into my ear. “I told you if you bit me again there would be dire fucking consequences.”

  I kick and swing wildly at him as he struggles to pull me back down to the bed.

  “Get your fucking hands off of me, Simon! Or I’ll bite something off!”

  I slam my arm back and he gives a very satisfying grunt of pain as my elbow connects with his ribs.

  “A lesser man would knock all of your fucking teeth out,” he curses as he releases my hips. “Be thankful I am not a lesser man.”

  I slap my hands at him, twisting away, doing my best to fight him off, but he still manages to get ahold of one of my wrists.

  Fingers digging into my skin, he uses my arm to reel me in.

  As he draws me closer and closer, my panic, my fear of what he might do to me, becomes a living, breathing thing.

  Acting on pure instinct, I slap him hard across the cheek. My palm stings and his fingers dig even deeper into my wrist as his head whips to the side.

  When his face turns back to me, his expression is cold, so cold, but his eyes are blazing.

  I take another swing at his face. I have absolutely nothing to lose at this point.

  The fucker manages to grab and stop my hand in mid-swing.

  A slow grins spreads across his bloody lips. “Come here, princess. It’s time to teach you a lesson.”

  “Fuck you,” I snap at him and my panic r
ises a few notches.

  I’m fucked. So fucked. And I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this. I’ve exhausted every defense I have, and I’ve obviously only managed to piss him off more in the process.

  I throw my weight back, but it’s useless. He just jerks me back into him like it’s nothing.

  Thrown off balance, I stumble into him. He gives another hard jerk and I go tumbling into the bed.

  Using my momentum against me, he manages to drag me across his lap. Then he yanks my arms behind my back, slamming my fists together.

  “What? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” I screech as I kick and struggle to both push myself up and escape his grasp.

  Shoving my fists into the small of my back, he forces my upper body down into the mattress.

  For a moment, I still. My body almost giving into the pressure. Into the constriction. Giving in like it needs it. Then I realize exactly where I am. I’m spread across his lap and something hard is stabbing me in the stomach.

  Oh my fucking god. Is he seriously turned on by all of this?

  And why does knowing that turn me on?

  “You’re a sick fuck,” I curse and resume my struggle.

  “Takes one to know one,” he grunts.

  Great. We’re resorting to nursery insults now. How far we’ve come…

  I kick and kick and screech. If only sheer willpower alone could free me.

  He shifts beneath me and then brings his heavy leg down on top of my legs.

  I buck my hips, but it’s pointless. I’m completely and utterly trapped beneath the weight of his leg.

  Head dropping forward, I pant to catch my breath. All my struggles have managed to do is wear me out.

  I feel Simon shifting both of my wrists into one of his hands.

  Shit. This can’t be happening.

  I give one more hard jerk of my hands but his grip sticks.

  Then I feel his hand coming down on my ass, cupping around the curve of it.

  No. No, no, no.

  “Simon…” I plead.

  I arch my back and twist my neck around to look up at him. He’s staring down at my ass with an intense look on his face.

  He begins to slowly slide my skirt up, almost like he’s unwrapping a present.