She didn’t have the breath to gasp when the knife sliced through the robe, nor the wit to fight when he shifted his weight to pull her up and yank the ruined fabric from under her. When she was forced back down, his knee in her back to keep her pinned this time, she was naked.

“So soft,” he said calmly, almost conversationally, Cade’s familiar voice all but buried in the accent. The cold kiss of the blade slid over her shoulder, down her ribs and waist to her ass. “I’d hate to have to hurt you, beauty.”

“Then let me go,” she wheezed, wasting precious air.

“Not going to happen,” he said with a chuckle, and reached underneath her.

She struggled as he yanked her arms out from under her, bucking and twisting as best she could, but he had her thoroughly pinned. He forced her arms to bend at the elbow and swiftly secured her wrists, and she recognized the feel and the weight of terrycloth. The belt from her robe, she realized, automatically flexing her wrists to test the strength of the tie.

“It’s adorable that you’re trying,” he mused, and the mocking lilt had her seeing red. His knee lifted from her back, giving her one glorious moment of freedom, and she used it. Quick as a snake, she rolled to the side, bringing her legs up hard, and her knee connected solidly with his stomach. She felt a surge of grim triumph at his muffled oof and scrambled to her feet when he curled in on himself. But she must not have connected as solidly as she’d thought, because she only made it one running step before he was on her again.

He didn’t cover her mouth this time, and the scream she let out when he yanked her back by her hair could’ve shattered glass. Then she was face down on the chase again with him full length on top of her, the rough denim of his jeans scraping her bare legs as his hot breath bathed the side of her face.

“Fucking cunt,” he muttered, twisting his hand in her hair and yanking so hard tears sprang to her eyes. Her neck was arched so far back that her ears were all but touching her shoulder blades, but still, she couldn’t see him. He was a shadow, a specter in a black hood and leather gloves, and she was at his mercy.

“Cunt,” he said again. Spittle hit her temple, and she flinched. “I was going to take it easy on you. Pet you a bit, make you feel good. But that’s done now, innit?”