Page 9 of Wounded Wing

Despite the pain, there’s a wetness sticking to my inner thighs and a heat blooming low in my stomach. My body betrays me once again, begging for him to take the pain away.

This is insane, even for me. I don’t like this shit.

Something hard and cold to the touch caresses my back, tracing the remaining scars of my past. I start to thrash wildly against the floor. Using my tongue, I push the thong from my mouth sucking in a full, pain-filled, breath of air.

“Are you done beating your wife, Atticus?” I choke.

His movements halt suddenly, as if my ability to speak pulled him back to reality.

Pretty sure that’s not a good thing.

A heavy thwack slams into my back, forcing my bare stomach on the freezing tile floor. Goosebumps trail across my skin, raising each hair in waves.

“Do you want to know what I’ve chosen for this scene, little butterfly?” he asks.

I huff at his refusal to address my question.

Of course, he isn’t done.

He must take my silence as an answer when he continues his musings, “I know all about your little outings to that gym downtown. Ladrón’s, is it?”

He slides what I assume is a Kamagong stick across my ass, down to the junction between my thighs. I will my body to relax as he probes the stick against my folds, encouraging a sickening throb to pulse between them. I cry out a pathetic laugh mixed with a choking sob. My hips lift, seeking friction where my arousal grows. My body and brain wage a war against each other. To fight or obey. To turn my pain into pleasure.

Just as I’ve been taught.

Snarling at my pathetic attempts to hump the floor, Atticus hooks his foot under my legs and flips me on my back.

“Have I broken you so much that you’re enjoying this,mon papillon?” he coos, throwing the defensive weapon to the side.

Dropping to his knees, he straddles my legs while pulling a pistol out from the back of his pants.

“I wonder if you'll like this more?” he muses.

His question leaves me speechless as my hands prickle numbly from the silky rope, now soaked in my blood and sweat.

Sliding his hands skillfully over the weapon, the echoes of clicking, popping, and releasing fills the room alongside my panicked breaths. A deafening crack fires above me, smoke trailing from my husband’s steady hand as a bullet lodges into the ceiling. “What the fuck are you doing, Atticus?” I ask as my heart stalls.

Shoving his knee between my thighs effectively spreading them open, I kick my legs in a pathetic attempt to hold him off. His face lights with a feral grin as a searing heat reaches my sex, breaching inside of me. Inhuman screams pierce the air while my body convulses against the wicked intrusion. It takes a moment for me to realize that the screams are coming fromme.

“That’s it,petit papillon. Give to me what is owed. You can pretend to hate it all you want, but I can see your cream coating my gun,” he coaxes.

My screams fade into whimpering sobs at the reminder that my body is responding. That my bodylikesthis.

“Should we up the stakes? If you don’t cum for me in two minutes, I’ll unload this clip inside of you,” he says. He drags the cooling pistol out, just to thrust it back in further.

Black spots dance behind my eyes, inviting me to give in to unconsciousness.

I don’t want to die.

Liam needs me.

Weakly, I roll my hips up, forcing my body to accept the gun to the trigger guard. The distinct sound of my arousal soaking the weapon has me clenching my core. Pain bleeds into pleasure as ashiver of desire flows through me. The pressure in the bundle of nerves between my folds builds with every plunge.

Groaning his appreciation, he fucks me with the gun the same way he’d use his cock. My climax peaks rapidly, spraying fluid over my inner thighs and the floor. I cry out in relief as my orgasm finally swallows my consciousness.

Chapter six

Her body slumps asshe squirts her orgasm, soaking everything in its path. Shivers of pleasure trickle down my spine knowing I brought her to the brink with pain just to pleasure her into unconsciousness. It’s a powerful piece of knowledge, knowing even when broken, beaten, and bruised, Mae still comes for me.

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