I don’t mean to moan, I don’t mean to lean into him, to silently beg for more, but I cannot stop myself. How is it possible that a monster as big as him can be capable of kissing like this?
My hands wrap around his neck, my fingers twist in his hair and it’s so soft I want to laugh. This man, this beast of a man that I hate so fucking much, suddenly feels so human.
He cup my face, his tongue devours me, and I swear I’m getting drunk on this kiss, drunk on this illogical, ridiculous moment that makes no sense whatsoever.
Who the fuck is Devin right now? Where is the monster, the brute I know?
He breaks us apart and grabs what I think is the soap. “Turn.” He says.
I decide not to argue with him, not to be difficult, and I stand still, I stand obediently as he scrubs my skin, as he cleans me, as he shampoos my hair again, just like he did back in that other place.
I know he drops to his knees when his colossal body, his arms, all move down my body. It’s clear what he’s going to do, that he’s going to fuck me again, use me again. No, I don’t want him to, but even as I think that thought, some part of me hungers for a touch that might be soft, that might be gentle, hell, that might be even half as good as that kiss was.
I’m fucked in the head. I have to be. To want this, to even consider it.
His fingers trace up my inner thighs. I’m shaking, my breath turns rattled as he gets closer and closer to my core. His fingers brush at the space where my clit should be. There’s nothing now, nothing but a scar, and a hollow numbness.
“Does this hurt?” He asks.
I shake my head. I don’t have any nerves left to feel pain there.
He grunts, moving them back, feeling where my labia was cut away, where everything was sliced right off.
“And this?” He asks.
Again, I shake my head. Right now, he’s being too soft for me to really feel anything.
But the Devin I know, the brute I’m intimately acquainted with doesn’t get off on softness, he doesn’t enjoy gentle lovemaking.
As his fingers probe my entrance, I grit my teeth and visibly lock up. I don’t have to say the words because he can see from my body language.
He’s going to thrust them inside me. Any minute, any minute this gentle exploration is going to switch. He’s going to brutalise me, he’s going to make me bleed,only, he doesn’t.
I gasp with relief as he removes his hand.
And then the water goes off. He murmurs something about getting me dry, and I feel the softness of a towel as he wraps it around me and carries me out to the bedroom.
I can feel the water still dripping off him as he holds me against his chest, clearly, he chose not to bother drying himself. He rubs the towel over my skin, before flinging it away, murmuring something so low I don’t catch it.
Is this the moment then, is this it? He has me clean, he’s got rid of all the grime, I guess I’m more appealing to him now, more fuckable.
“I’d at least appreciate some food before you fuck me.” The words leave my mouth before I even register that I’ve spoken them.
“Food?” Devin repeats, like he hasn’t been the one starving me. I feel the air tense, I hear the sound of his knuckles flexing in irritation. “Alright, malkta,” He says. “I’ll get you some food, and after, you can suck my cock as a thanks.”
A thanks? A fucking thanks? I’m so close to throwing something at his stupid head, only I don’t know what’s in reach and I’ve no doubt I’d probably miss.
He must take my silence as some form of acquiescence because I hear him walk away, before the door opens and closes in quick succession.
Pailtyn
We’re sat at a small table. Thankfully I didn’t trip over that in my explorations.
I’ve got a bathrobe on and nothing else. I have no idea what Devin is wearing, if he’s even dressed.
In my hands I hold a knife and fork made of what feels like actual silver. The weight is comforting, it reminds me of before, when I was home, when I was treated as a person, a humanbeing, at least, that’s what I thought, when the reality is I was actually being groomed.
In front of me smells the most incredible damn meal of my life. My mouth waters as I try to scoop something onto the fork. But as I raise it to my mouth, all I get is some sauce, nothing of substance.