She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She replies. “None of it does.”
Nah, I won’t have that, I won’t have her thinking that, acting like she doesn’t want to come for me. Acting like it’s okay that someone else cut parts of her out, someone other than me.
I pick her back up, holding her body more gently and I push myself back into her, though I’m slower this time, more considerate. She still screws her face up, still clearly feels the pain as I bury myself inside her.
With one hand, I rock her hips, forcing her body to move, to comply with my wants, and with the other, I keep her pressed into the wall, held by her throat.
Her tits bounce, those beautiful scars all over her body glisten as the shower water pours down. I’m so tempted to lean down and bite them, to bite her nipples, but I remind myself that I’m trying to be nice here, trying to be gentle for the first time in my entire life.
Her whimpers never change to moans, even when I’m certain I’m pressing against her g-spot. I guess she’s playing hard to get but that’s okay, I have time,wehave time. No one can take her from me now. I can spend hours, days, hell, even weeks entangled with her, learning what makes her body tick, proving that the circumstances may have altered but she’s still my little whore.
I throw my head back when I come, growling so much it’s a wonder I don’t smash the glass cubicle. I slide out, panting, and she stumbles as I release my grip and let her feet touch the floor.
There’s blood. Not much, but enough to tell me I did hurt her.
“You took the spikes out.” She says quietly.
I glance down, realising she means the barbs in my cock. I didn’t take them out, the doctors did when my brother had me institutionalised. Definitely not my finest moment, being held down while someone manhandles the most sensitive part of me.
“We both had things done to us that we didn’t like.” I state.
She wrinkles her nose, her face turning to fury as I switch the water off.
“I’m not your fucking toy.” She suddenly spits. “You all think that I’ll just go back there, just become something you can all fuck, well I won’t. I won’t.”
I grab hold of her, slamming her back. If that’s what she thinks this is, then she’s very wrong indeed.
“No one is fucking you but me.” I state.
She shakes her head, and for a second I can almost believe those fake eyes are truly glaring at me.
“I’m not yours. I’m not.”
“No?” I growl, returning my hand to her throat, pinning her up by it so that her feet kick out and she realises how precarious her situation is. “Where the fuck do you think you’re gonna go then? You think anyone else cares about you? Everyone believesyour dead, and those that don’t, well,” I grin, even though she can’t see it. “You don’t want to let those bastards know you’re not?” I state.
She shudders, digging her nails into my forearms.
“Accept your place, Paitlyn, accept your new role in life.”
“And what is that?” She spits.
“My whore, my plaything, and my wife-to-be.”
Pailtyn
The breeze is so cool, it’s almost unnerving.
I can hear the faint rustle of the trees, the sound of birds chirping.
I can’t even remember the last time I was outside.
I slipped out the moment I could. I had to feel my way, had to listen to the wind howling beneath the doorways to know which one to pick.
I’m wearing a man’s t-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting cargo pants. They feel military but that could also just be the fabric.
A voice in my head is screaming at me to run. But how the fuck can I? I can barely take a few steps without injuring myself. And besides, I have nowhere to go.
That thought hits me like a freight train, even if I did manage to get away from wherever the fuck I am, I don’t have any money, any friends, anything to help me.