Sweet: A Dark Love Story by Kit Tunstall, R.E. Saxton Page B

appetite, and she tried not to think deeply of it during the daytime.
    Not that he didn’t fuck her senseless during the day too. They had spent most of the last week doing everything sexual there was to do. She was relieved to have a little break today, as her ass and pussy were still sore from last night, when he had pounded her so vigorously while stuffing his largest plug into her back passage. At the time, she had reveled in every moment of it, but now she felt guilty and kind of sick to her stomach for having done so, and for having surrendered so easily.
    She felt like she had surrendered this whole week, losing a little bit more of herself each time she did so. It frightened her that she was so tempted to give in to Declan’s idea of safety and providing for her and protecting her. It was easy to separate herself from it all when she wasn’t in his arms, but not so clear-cut in moments of passion. She felt incredibly safe when he was holding her, and even when he was hurting her.
    That was the upsetting part, that and her inability to resist the dangerous lure of Declan’s darkness. It wasn’t even so much the breath play as it was surrendering herself to his hands and trusting that he would take her as far as she needed to go, while instinctively knowing when to stop and not take her any farther.
    In other words, she was starting to trust the madman who had taken her, and she was slipping far too easily into the lifestyle to which he was introducing her. For the first time in days, she had enough clarity to realize she should probably be terrified and still fighting every step of the way.
    Fear sparked in her, but it wasn’t the primal survival instinct that she needed. Rather, it was more of a lackluster response, the kind one gave because it was expected, not because it was what was really felt.
    That realization terrified her. If she was only going through the motions of trying to escape and offering tepid protests about the way he had taken over her life, she was a weak-willed fool, and she deserved to sink into the mire of his degradation and lust.
    And love.
    She sighed heavily as she contemplated the word. He hadn’t said it, of course, but she was certain Declan loved her, or he was convinced he did anyway. He had been fixated on her for so long, obsessing over her and imagining all the ways he would make her pay for what her father had done, that perhaps it had turned into a dark and twisted form of love, or he’d simply convinced himself it was. She didn’t know, and she shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t matter whether he really loved her or just thought he did and was really just a completely obsessed, sadistic bastard.
    But it did matter. How he felt influenced how she felt. She whimpered as she realized she was starting to depend on Declan in a way she hadn’t trusted anyone else in her life for a long time, if ever. She had learned the lesson young not to believe in anyone, but here was this crazy fucker, who liked to strangle and whip her before fucking every hole in her body multiple times per day, either with his own dick or a sex toy, and she was blithely handing over her trust to him.
    Maybe she was the crazy one. She should be racking her brain for a way to escape.
    She let out a startled yelp when he abruptly popped out of the water in front of her, having lost track of his motions as she had contemplated her thoughts. As his hands went to her waist, she shrieked and tried to pull back. “Don’t put me in the water.”
    He froze and slowly lifted his hands from her bare body. His embargo on clothing had  extended to both of them for the last few days. “Whoa, calm down, Kat. I wouldn’t bring you into the water without your permission. Have you seen anyone about your phobia?”
    She let out a sharp laugh of ridicule. “I didn’t exactly grow up in a family who put mental health as a priority, Declan.” To be fair, Claire had encouraged her to speak to the counselor she was