Page 46 of Poisoning Ivy
I don't know how long he lasts this time, my body losing all sense of time as I cease to matter except for as his toy to use. The darkness pulls at the corners of my vision as exhaustion sweeps in, and I feel myself falling as he slips out of me, his hand pushing me down from the flat of my back. I collapse beneath him to be showered with his cum, but my head is buzzy and I don't even feel it, my pussy throbbing along with the pulse in my neck.
"We turned you into our own personal slip and slide." Monty chuckles, ruffling the hair at the back of my head before peeling it off my face.
I'm grateful, since I don't think I could move even if I wanted to. I glance up to see him grinning at me, but I can't lift my head to return it, so I simply smile into the sheets as the darkness claims me.
Chapter twenty-four
Ivy
Age Twenty-One
The sudden, stomach-lurching feeling of being in freefall pulls me from sleep, and my eyes snap open. I can feel the grip on my ankle, angry and strong, as my back drags against the mattress and someone pulls me to the edge.
"Fucking whore!"
My vision is unfocused, my mind still groggy with sleep, but as I try to blink it away, I recognize the pissed off face looming over me.
Uncle Vitoli.
I try to twist out of his grip, clawing at the sheets to flip myself back over and hide my vulnerability, but only my upper body complies, my hips pinned below the weight of my father's right hand man. I look for my boys, but none of them are there, and the bed is empty except for me and the body bearing down over top of mine. He sits on my thighs, trapping me against the bed so that he can lean forward and wrap his hands around my throat.
"Little fucking whore! This is where you've been all night? Fucking the local psychopath?"
I couldn't answer if I wanted to, because he's squeezing me hard enough that I can't breathe, let alone speak. Tears burn in my eyes as I try to pry his fingers free of their hold on me, my heart thrashing like a wild animal inside my chest.
Where's Killian? Theo? Monty? Why am I alone? And how did Uncle Vitoli get inside?
"I shouldn't be surprised." Uncle Vitoli laughs. His eyes are glazed and unfocused the way they always are when he's deep in a bottle. He's a functional alcoholic, which means even though I can smell the liquor sweating from his pores and the vodka on his sour breath, he is still coordinated enough to attack. "Your mother's a fucking whore, too. You know your daddy only keeps her alive because her pussy is worth more alive than dead, right?" He laughs, shaking me so that my head hits against the mattress. "But you? Your fucking husband isn't going to want you now that you've been fucking mountain trash. I can kill you right now for all the fucking hell you put me through these years."
My lungs are screaming, desperate for air. I can breathe through my nose, but without anywhere for the air to go, it makes my head feel like it will explode. His words aren't making a whole lot of sense, but I can't tell if it's me or because he's a drunk and raving lunatic.
A glob of spit splashes on my face, and I want to retch. I feel the heave of my body, but there's nowhere for the rising tide of nausea to go.
My heartbeat is screaming in my ears, and I can hear every drop of blood in my head crashing through my veins, desperate to go somewhere. My eyes feel like they're going to pop out of my head, but they also feel oddly heavy.
I want to scream for Killian, for Monty or Theo. I want to scream for help from any of them, from all of them, but there's zero chance of that happening.
"Save your tears, Ivy. You know they've never stopped me before." Uncle Vitoli shakes his head and then cocks it to one side, studying me. "Seems like I'm not the first to choke you like this, hmm? I always knew you liked the punishments. It's why you did such dumb shit, isn't it? Why you snuck out and stole food in the middle of the night? It's why you always walked around in those little pajama shorts and that top with the buttons that was so easy to slip a hand underneath?"
As if he's recalling the memories, he takes one hand off my neck, letting a violent burst of expired air rush out of me before I can gasp to fill my lungs with new oxygen. His hand grips my breast instead, cupping me for a moment before his fat fingers pinch my nipple between his thumb and index finger, pulling hard. I scream, feeling like he's going to tear my flesh right off of me, and the tears roll faster as he lets go only to lower his mouth over it.
When he choked me, he hadn't had to restrain me any further than pinning me down, the depletion of my lungs doing the work for him. But now my hands are free, so I wedge them between our bodies and try to push him off. I can feel his cock against my stomach, and I don't have any doubts about his intentions. He may have always danced around what he really wanted in the past, but I'm an adult now, and I can tell there's no stopping this. The only thing that ever stopped him before was the fact that he knew I'd be sold like cattle. To fetch the highest price, they had to have a premium product. But now he knows I'm not a virgin, and it seems that all bets are off when he leans back, letting my abused nipple free with one last bite that makes me scream.
I turn my head, panic setting in as I scan the room. The boys haven't come for me, and I have to wonder if Uncle Vitoli did something to them. As much as they love to hurt me, I don't believe they'd let someone else do it. Killian murdered Tilly for less than this, and yet, no one is coming. And Uncle Vitoli seemsnot to be bothered by my screams, like he is confident that there's no one around who will help.
"Killian!" I beg, desperation surging as Uncle Vitoli wrenches his belt free and flings it onto the mattress next to me, the buckle smacking against my bare stomach. The impact makes white heat spread behind my eyes, unused to the pain on this side of my flesh. Usually, it's my ass that bears the marks of his belt, and I schooled myself on how to react to those long ago. But this is different. It takes my breath away, particularly as he pulls his stubby cock out over the band of his boxers.
Even completely erect, he's small, but that doesn't mean I want that putrid thing anywhere near me. I gather myself as his hand dips between my legs, probing around blindly as I clench, desperate to keep him out. "Your fucking mountain man isn't coming, Ivy. But I can do what he did, and you can scream for your Uncle. Tell me how you want Uncle Vitoli to fuck his little whore?"
I clench my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of screaming... until he stabs me with two of his fingers sliding into me. The friction of his touch inside my dry pussy aches, and I squirm to get out from under him. All I can think about is the dirt crusted beneath his nails, how they were always too long, as they drag against the inside of me. He pumps in and out, his heavy breaths growing in excitement until I think he may come from just this.
The pain isn't the worst of it. I feel used in the worst way, dirty. Abandoned. Betrayed. Why aren't they coming to help me?
Uncle Vitoli fists his cock with his other hand, still tearing me up inside with the first, and I want to throw up, unable to get out from under him no matter how I try to contort myself. Killian's bed is pushed against the wall, and I have nowhere to go even if I could get my body to move.
"So wet for your Uncle, aren't you, Ivy?" Uncle Vitoli groans, enjoying his delusion, which tells me he's probably never had a single consensual pussy in his entire life.
I turn away from him as he lines his cock up with me, closing my eyes to try and block out the feeling of the head of his penis as he nudges it against me.
