Leave Me (Touch of Death Book 2)

by LP Lovell

  He laughs. “There she is. For a moment there, I thought you were going to be a boring fuck.” His hand lands on the back of my neck, his entire weight pressing down on me. My air cuts off, and I panic. And it’s then, when I’m at my most vulnerable, that he shoves himself inside me on a groan.

  “I don’t want you willing, principessa. I want to ruin you,” he grunts, thrusting into me so hard that all I feel is pain. “Because I can still see that defiance in your eyes. You want to escape, but you never will. You’re mine now.” He bites my earlobe, and tears sting my eyes.

  It’s like my very soul is withering and dying. Crippling defeat washes over me, and tears silently track down my cheeks. I stop fighting.

  “Maybe I’ll put a baby in you. You’ll be my prize broodmare.” He laughs. Thrust, thrust, thrust. As he takes his pleasure, the pressure on my neck never ceases.

  My head swims, and unconsciousness blurs the corners of my mind. I picture myself slicing open Enrique’s throat, that smug smile leaving him as blood pours down his skin. And then blackness engulfs me, and I’m grateful for it.

  When I wake, the room is dark and quiet except for the distant hum of the party in the background, and it disorientates me. Cool air meets the exposed skin of my legs and ass, and a deep ache radiates between my thighs. The cooling evidence of his pleasure coats my skin, disgusting me. Maybe I’ll put a baby in you. The thought makes me sick. Thank God for the implant in my arm. I’d rather die than spawn his child. As I pull myself together, I finally become aware of Enrique’s sleeping form barely a foot away from me.

  Deep breaths slip past his lips as he sleeps heavily. A burning hatred bubbles up inside me, boiling over until I’m nothing but pure rage. I press my palms to the bed and push up slowly, careful not to jostle the mattress and wake him. As I sit up, tattered lace and satin pools at my waist, exposing my body. I don’t care. My finger brushes over the bracelet until I find that tiny notch and push it. The blade springs free, and I pinch it between my thumb and forefinger. It’s like a super-sharp, short knitting needle. I move closer, closer. This man raped me, killed my father, entrapped me, tried to kill my sister. And I’m angry, so damn angry.

  My heart thrums, harder and harder as I bring the blade to the side of his neck. It’s tiny but razor-sharp. If I can just open up his artery, he’ll bleed to death. The tip of the blade pricks his neck, and I ready myself to drive it deep when fingers suddenly snap around my wrist. His eyes flash open, and we both still, staring at each other.

  “Well, well. You’re braver than I thought.”

  I grit my teeth and push forward, the blade moves by maybe a millimeter, and the satisfying trickle of blood down his throat rewards me. He laughs.

  With a blade to his throat, he laughs in my face. “You don’t have it in you. You’re weak.”

  “You underestimate how much I hate you,” I grate.

  His eyes narrow, and a smile cuts over his face. “Why? Because I fucked my wife?” He raises a brow. “Don’t you like it a little rough?”

  “Why? You’re asking me why!”

  He manages to push my hand away from his neck just slightly. The tiny puncture hole continues to stream blood.

  I lean over him, using my weight to force it back to his skin. “You killed my father, and now I’m going to kill you.”

  “I didn’t kill your father.” A smirk pulls at his lips. “I just ordered the hit.”

  “It’s the same thing,” I growl.

  All humor wipes from his features. “Oh, but it isn’t. Your father’s killer is a little closer to home. You see, I contracted a hitman.” The more he speaks, the colder I feel. “You might know him.”

  “No,” I whisper, knowing what he’s going to say. It’s not true!

  “Sasha Ivanov killed your father.”

  “You’re lying!”

  His expression smooth’s. “I assure you, I’m not.”

  And something in me just knows he’s telling the truth. My world stops turning. Everything I thought I knew becomes a lie. And the two men responsible for my father’s death have both been inside me. In the same day.

  It’s all the pause he needs. My wrist is bent, and he throws me on my back. His weight presses over me as he brings his lips to my ear. “I promised I would break you. Welcome to hell, principessa.”

  To be continued…

  Thank you so much for reading Leave Me. I hope you love Sasha and Adelina’s slow burn romance. The rest of Sasha and Adelina’s story, LOVE ME, is available to pre-order HERE.

  If you haven’t read Una and Nero’s story already, KILL ME is now available for just 99c or FREE in KU. Download HERE.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for reading. Not every woman wants the conventional hero, and the perfect love story. So for that, I thank you, because no one would want to read my books otherwise!

  Behind every book is a team of people who helped bring it to life. There are so many people to thank for helping me with Loathe Me.

  Autumn Gantz from Wordsmith Publicity, I’m not sure how I fully functioned as an adult before you. Thanks for your eternal patience.

  Kerry Fletcher. Girl, you put up with so much. You’re like, part PA, part mother and part super hero. I love you!

  Danielle Dickson, thank you for your patience in designing my covers. I love, love, love this one.

  Stephie and Stevie, thank you for your vigilant editing.

  Stevie... I love you, whore.

  There are so many blogs and individuals who have helped me along the way and you are all hugely appreciated.

  There are so, so many people who have helped me, and you know who you are.

  I hope I haven’t missed anyone. Just know that anyone who has ever written a review, posted a teaser, or read any of my books...Thank you. Your ongoing support means the world.

  About the Author

  Sign up to LP Lovell’s newsletter and stay up to date: Join the Mailing List here.

  Lauren Lovell is a ginger from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and

  apologise for afterwards. Her main goal in life is to make readers mildly disgusted and uncomfortably aroused at the same time.

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