Page 58 of Buried in Blood
“Yes,” he admits.
“Why don’t you treat me like her?”
I roll my eyes. She is fucking brainwashed. She thinks he will love her like he does Harmony. He never fucking will.
Damien stalks over to her, gripping her cheeks tightly between his fingers.
“You want me to treat you like her?”
“Y-yes.”
“On your knees,” he commands.
She quickly drops to her knees before him. Eagerly.
I feel bile rise inside of me. I can’t fucking watch this. I press my eyes shut. The sounds of metal clanking to the floor echoes in my ears.
I hear the wet sounds of Brooke’s mouth taking his cock. It makes my skin fucking crawl.
The sounds blur out as my pulse throbs in my fucking neck. This is worse than any physical torture I have been through.
This is fucking sick.
21
Damien
Her mouth is warm.
Obedient.
Grateful.
And I don’t close my eyes—not even when the pleasure hits like a current snapping through my spine—because I want towatch. The crown of her head bobbing. Her palms flat against my thighs, like she’s praying to a god she doesn’t even realize is broken.
This isn’t about release.
It never is.
It’s aboutcontrol.
And control is what I have.
I don’t even like this fucking slut. I just know how badly it will destroy Dante. I need him to be so utterly pissed off that he does something irrational. Something out of character. I need him to fucking bleed for me.
The sound of chains clinking against a metal chair draws my attention. I glance to the side, smirking at Dante, still shackled, still bleeding, still pretending he’s above all this.
But I see it.
The fracture in his gaze.
The barely-contained disgust curdling behind his stoic expression.
Good.
“Sensitive, brother?” I murmur, threading my fingers through Brooke’s hair and guiding her just the way I like. “You should be proud. She’s got your blood, after all.”
His jaw flexes.
