Page 90 of The Boy I Loved
My steps faltered as I took it all in, fear slamming into me with brutality.
What the fuck was this place?
There were a couple of beds positioned near the far right with equipment hanging from them. Such as cuffs and gags. There was a contraption at the other end of the room that didn’t look too difficult to figure out. The victim would be placed in the machine, bent over the board and locked in to where she couldn’t move. She’d then be fucked, tortured, or both.
Most of the equipment, I couldn’t even begin to figure out. They looked like outdated machines that would have been used in the fourteen hundreds.
“Badass, right?” Tristan questioned, pride filling his tone as he turned to look at me.
I couldn’t tell if he was truly expecting a response or if it was rhetorical. But he kept staring at me, waiting for me to say something. Reeling in my annoyance, I blew out a breath. “I feel like you’re trying to get me to say something that will warrant my potential torture,” I said slowly.
Tristan’s eyes flashed with something I couldn’t decipher, but the smile tugging at his lips told me I hadn’t been far off. He turned to Nicholas. “Wait outside,” he instructed.
A cold feeling of dread washed over me, and my body trembled of its own accord. My mind knew I needed to remain vigilant. If I begged, that would only make him want to hurt me more. If I questioned him, he would also hurt me. The only thing I could do was stand still and not utter a single word.
Nicholas hesitated for a moment, his dark eyes drifting to me.For a second, I thought he might refuse, but that wouldn’t make any sense. He’d have to be human to care. Instead, he turned on his heels and strode to the door, slipping out, and closing it behind him with a loud click.
“I want to fuck you again,” Tristan said bluntly.
I clamped my eyes closed, breathing in harshly. “There are other girls here,” I pointed out, hoping he didn’t lash out at me for the comment.
It had been nearly a week since he forced his way inside of me, and I’d started to count myself lucky. Nobody else had bothered me, and I was beginning to get a little comfortable.
“I wasn’t in the right headspace then,” he said simply. “I want to test something.”
Before I could respond, he was tugging me across the stuffy room. My heart galloped in my chest as he tossed me on one of the beds. The mattress bounced beneath my weight, and I quickly scrambled away, trying to put as much distance between the two of us as possible.
“You going to put up more of a fight this time?” he asked, cocking a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
“Would you like that?” I asked innocently, even though my heart was thrashing around wildly.
His lips stretched into a sinister grin, one that sent goosebumps careening over my skin. “Yes.”
This time when he reached for me, I kicked my foot out, knocking him back a step. I rolled on my side, kicking my legs over the side of the bed. As soon as I was on the ground, I was running. Adrenaline shot through my veins, my mind whirling with a multitude of thoughts I couldn’t even grasp. Pleasing Tristan meant surviving. Keeping him entertained meant surviving. I’d do whatever I had to if it meant I lived.
I dove behind one of the machines, his footsteps slow and calculating. They echoed through the room, growing closer and closer.
When he rounded the same machine I was hiding behind, I swung, punching him in the face. His head whipped to the side, blood pooling over the cut in his lower lip. His blue eyes flashed with retribution, but he seemed more excited than angry, which eased some of the tension from my shoulders.
Tristan lunged for me again, ducking the fist I threw his way. His arms circled around my waist as he tackled me, the air fleeing my lungs when I landed on the hard floor, his body hovering over mine. I squirmed against him, doing everything I could to buck him off of me.
“Beg me.” He growled. “Beg me not to fuck you.”
I didn’t even have to pretend. All I had to do was utter the words bouncing around my skull. “Please don’t,” I whispered, pushing against his chest with all the strength I could muster.
He moaned against my neck, grinding his hips against mine as I struggled beneath his body relentlessly.
“Please, Tristan. I’ll do anything. Just don’t do this.”
“Fucking shit,” he panted. “My name sounds so good on your lips.”
I continued to fight against him as he requested, shoving at his chest repeatedly, but it was no use. He was too heavy, and I was no match. He eased off of me just a smidge, enough for him to reach for the button on his jeans. Panic seared through my chest and my movements became more erratic. Turning to the arm he had propped near my head, I sunk my teeth into it, biting down as hard as possible.
“Bitch,” he hissed, sitting up abruptly. Before I could scramble away, he was shoving his jeans down his legs, followed by his boxers.
I twisted, turning on my stomach and managed to scoot my way up to get out from under him. Just as I was positioning my knees beneath me to escape, he grabbed my ankle and pulled me back down. I grunted as my stomach hit the cold floor, the air leaving mylungs again. The door creaked open from the distance, but Tristan didn’t seem that concerned by it.
He fisted my skirt, tearing it from my body instantly. The cold air skated over my ass, but a burn took its place when Tristan jerked my panties from my body next.
