“Realised what?” He half-snarls, like I’ve insulted him.
“That the pain is good, the pain is necessary.”
“Paitlyn…”
I grit my teeth because this is not the kind of conversation I want to have right now, not while his dick is still buried in me, and yet, I’m done hiding, done swallowing my words, done being used by people too.
I want my needs to be met. I want my wants to be granted. I deserve it, by God, I bloody well deserve it.
“I learnt, Devin.” I snap back. “I evolved, I twisted. Guthrie thought he was beating me, thought all that torture would ruin me. Only, I learnt to take it, to crave it, to turn what he wanted to be a punishment into the complete opposite. That bastard was never going to beat me. I made sure of it.”
“You like the pain?” He says, sounding still so disbelieving.
“I like it.” I say. “I want it. I need it. When all you have is darkness, the pain proves you’re alive. The pain proves you’re still human.”
As if in answer he rolls his hips and he slams himself into me.
My hand finds his throat, I squeeze enough to ensure he feels it. “You like it too, Devin. You like delivering pain, inflicting it. So don’t hold back on me, give me everything you have, everyfucked-up part of you. I can handle it. I can take it. And I know you want it as much as me.”
It feels like I’ve lit a match, like I’ve finally set this man free, undone his chains and ordered him to do his very worst. His hands tighten around my body, his mouth captures mine and he kisses me more savagely than I thought could be possible. I can taste my blood as my lip splits, I can taste it on my tongue, on his, on both of ours. It feels so decadent, it feels like the finest champagne that we’re both savouring together.
I arch my back, taking each brutal thrust as he fucks me mercilessly and the pain and pleasure mingle together in such a way that I swear I’m hallucinating.
“Devin,” I scream into his mouth, I cry out, I sing.
I feel like I’m on fire, I feel like I’m combusting, burning in sin, burning in the very depths of hell, and Devin is my very own demon, spurring me on, ensuring all of my damnation is complete.
Devin
She’s fast asleep, curled up, safe in my arms.
Everything in the world feels right for the first time in my entire life, and then I hear it.
That fucking noise.
It’s distant, far enough away for me to dismiss as my imagination. But I’m not an idiot, not a fool.
I spring up, waking her in the process and she cries out, before I wrap my hand around her mouth. I don’t know if it’s my brother or someone else, but it’s clear the place has been rumbled.
I scoop her up, barricade her in the wardrobe, then barricade the door to the room from the hallway so no one can get inside.
I’m naked, exposed, my dick is waggly from side to fucking side as I prowl through the house, with the assault rifle now in my hands.
I can hear the sound of gunshots, of a battle going off in the lower levels. Have they come for Paitlyn or for me? Perhaps it’s both, but either way, they’re going to end up dead.
I meet Malik on the second floor. He’s got someone pinned down behind a cabinet, and they keep taking potshots at him every few seconds.
He grunts when he sees me, but beyond that, the bastard doesn’t look phased.
“Can you hold it down?” I ask.
He grunts again so I turn, leaving him to it, and make my way back down the hall, back to the second stairwell. Someone is coming up it. Racing up it. They sound like an elephant, stomping away as they take each step. Stupid fuck, don’t they know that’s how you get killed?
I take aim, waiting until his leg comes into view through the banisters, and I pop one bullet into his shin. He screams, falling backwards and I land a second, blowing his head off.
Another comes right after, he’s just as easy to deal with.
The next few put up a half-decent fight. A bullet streaks past my thigh, giving me a delicious hit of both pain and adrenaline. I shoot my way down the first floor and to the basement.