BRUTAL LOVE DUET

*disclaimer: this sneak peek is completely unedited and subject to change.

Brutal Desire Sneak Peek

FREYA

My chest burns as I take another deep breath, the icy air doing nothing to calm the raging fire erupting into my lungs every time my feet pound into the pavement. The wind whips at my face and I resist the urge to wipe the tear clinging to the corner of my eye. Instead, I push more power into my legs.

Silence encases me, my noise-cancelling earbuds effectively blocking out the rest of the world despite not a single lyric leaving them. It’s the only time I like the quiet. The only time my thoughts aren’t louder than everything else. I need it. Even through the burn and the harsh inhales, I feel like I can breathe.

When I round the next corner the end of my family’s long driveway comes into view, the gates still open from when I’d left. Tendrils of dirty blonde hair come loose from my braid and stick to my sweat-slicked skin. As soon as my sneakers hit the driveway, the memories I’d been trying to outrun come raging back, and I pick up my pace. Memories of stumbling down this driveway a year ago flood my mind and I find myself being pulled back to that night.

The party.

Him.

My torn dress flailing in the wind whilst my bare feet carried me to the one place I thought I’d be safe and cared for.

I run faster, my breath turning ragged as my stride loses any rhythm it might have had. By the time I make it up the front steps my vision is blurred, and I feel like I could fall to the ground right here. Dropping my head, I plant my hands on my knees and try to draw in as much air as I can. Rogue tears slip down my cheeks, and no matter how much I tell myself they’re from the wind, I know it’s a lie.

I’m not sure how many minutes pass before my panting calms and I’m able to straighten my back and put the code into the security pad. I use the second it takes for the door to unlock to swipe my hands under my eyes, removing any evidence of tears before heading inside.

Pristine marble flooring greets me in the foyer, yet I don’t bother taking off my shoes that are probably tracking dirt inside. God forbid the house looks like anyone actually lives here. With strategically placed artwork and rooms full of furniture nobody uses, this place feels more like a museum than a home.

A look into the life of Sydney’s wealthiest.

If only they knew what the elite sacrificed to keep their so-called lifestyles.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I crack the lid and raise it to my lips. As soon as the cool liquid hits my tongue I realise just how much I needed it, gulping down the contents until there’s nothing left. Taking my earbuds out, I slide them into the small waist pocket of my leggings before heading for the stairs.

“I was hoping I’d get to tell you myself.”

The familiar voice wraps around my throat and I freeze.

Heavy steps move towards me and before my brain can send the signal to my legs to flee, I feel his body behind me. I jump when his arm wraps around my middle, his hand splaying across my stomach and pulling me into him.

Run.

My mind screams the single word at me, but it’s too late.

“What? No hello?” he drawls into my ear, and I flinch as his breath hits my skin. His other hand moves to my thigh, sliding up until he reaches the hem of my singlet.

My heart hammers in my chest, but when he slips his fingers underneath the fabric, my lungs constrict, barely letting in enough air to inflate them and my breaths become desperate. I plead with my body to do something—scream, fight, anything except this. Instead, my hands tremble uselessly at my sides whilst his touch makes my stomach turn.

“Don’t want to talk? That’s fine,” he says, letting his hand come to rest on my ribs, his thumb skimming my breast. “But you’ll have to find a way to get used to me because we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”

What is he talking about?

I’d rather spend eternity alone than another second with him.

Ryan Townsend.

Heir to the Townsend fortune.

My brother’s best friend.

And the man who ruined my life.

“You know, I often think how good a repeat of our night together would be,” he says, and an almost silent whimper escapes me when he grasps my breast over my sports bra. “What it would be like to hear the little sounds you made.” He groans, dragging his lips along the edge of my ear. “Feel my cock sinking into your sweet pussy again.”

Hearing him describe the worst night of my life in a way that makes it sound like I had any choice at all has bile spilling into my mouth. My vision blurs and the feel of his hard length digging into my back turns my blood cold.

“Let me go, Ryan,” I say, finding my voice, and I’m at least grateful there’s no tremble in my words. They sound strong, even though I feel anything but.

For a moment, I wonder where Jackson is. If Ryan’s here, my brother couldn’t be far away. Being three years older than me, Jackson was always my biggest protector growing up. But we’re not those kids anymore.

What would he think if he walked around the corner now?

Would he see the tears in my eyes and the terror on my face?

What would he do?

“So, it’s going to be like that, Freya?” Ryan sighs, nuzzling the crook of my neck in a way that sends chills down my spine. “You can hate me all you like, but it won’t change anything,” he says and a breath of relief seeps out of me when he releases my breast and takes his hand from under my singlet. Except when he grabs my left hand a strange sense of dread washes over me.

He raises my hand so that it’s clearly in my line of sight, then removes his hold on my stomach. With only my hand in his, there isn’t anything else is keeping me here, though, for a reason I can’t explain, I feel even more trapped than I did a moment ago.

Ryan shifts behind me before his free hand reappears. The light glints off something but I can’t make out what it is through my blurred vision, yet when he starts sliding something onto my finger my breath hitches. Partially breaking through the paralysis that had rendered my body useless, I try to pull my hand away, but he only tightens his hold.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my heartbeat thrumming so loud in my ears I doubt I’ll hear a response if he gives one.

When the ring sits securely at the base of my finger Ryan wraps one arm back around my middle whilst keeping my hand up for me to see.

“Perfect,” he says, pulling me even tighter against him. As if merely knowing isn’t enough, feeling how much he’s getting off on tormenting me makes me want to vomit.

I stare wide-eyed at my left hand.

At the engagement ring.

This has to be a sick joke.

The obscene diamond stares back at me, and with a gold band that fits me almost too well, I ache to tear the thing off.

“You’re mine, Freya Ashwood.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. Hard.

And then he’s gone.

Release date TBA