Page 44 of When Sinners Rise
It’s a twisted line of hate and want that makes no sense.
My mind rushes with questions, but they can’t stave off how good his fingers feel inside of me. It’s mortifying and confusing, but just as the urge to run and fight took over, now I’m facing another urge centred at the pit of my stomach.
“You’re so fucking wet.”
The words from him are like a betrayal, and they grate against my very soul, but my heart is beating so fast, I don’t have space for my mind to take over. I grab forward, reaching for Shaw’s trousers. It takes him all of a second before he catches on, and we’re all hands, fighting with the clothes this time, not each other.
One leg of my jeans is off, and he lifts me up, pinning me against the wall as I wrap my free leg around his hip. He doesn’t wait but shoves deep inside of me, filling me up.
He hoists my knee up, getting more leverage and then rams into me. It’s forceful and aggressive, and I like it. It’s guttural and raw as I pull at his shoulders, keeping me balanced and in the right spot for him to drive me deeper into my own pleasure.
Our breathing grows more laboured. Jagged and desperate.
It’s hot and angry, but I give as much as he does. Like the fight we were trapped in has morphed into this other physical act.
At the back of my mind, a million bells are ringing, but I turn them off. This is just sex. Violent, twisted, and messed up,but just sex. There’s no comfort, it’s primal – an exchange. That feels too fucking good.
Shaw continues, working his hips harder and harder as if still fighting me. I take it, listening to my body as it climbs higher and higher. He grips my skin, and I dig into his, our bodies attacking each other with every move. There are no words between us, just the dull moan of pleasure and the panting of our breaths in the dark. It builds, growing louder and dirtier.
In my mind, I’m desperate for him to just hit a little harder, to send me over that edge, and then this can be over, but I suck my lip, stopping myself from speaking the truth or asking for anything from him.
“Shit, Miri, you’re going to fucking come!” He murmurs the words against my neck, his breath warm against my skin, sexy. His last few violent jolts and the grip of his hands do it. It sets off the spiral of pleasure that I want to string out and work as hard as I can. I pull and tense and ride him as he pushes me to that point, wanting to take it for myself. “Jesus!”
My fingers grip and claw him as he comes, too, spent and panting until he finally stills.
My heart feels like it’s going to explode from my chest, and my throat is sore from the deep, dry breaths I keep taking.
Shaw’s the same, but he doesn’t let me go.
I keep my eyes in the dark, not wanting to see the evidence of what just happened. The need I was chasing just a moment ago is now replaced with a twisted knot of guilt and shame.
I liked him overpowering me in this way. Which makes no fucking sense after what he did to me back in that cell.
Fuck.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SHAW
Istare at her face, watching that venom trying not to enjoy itself. Her fingers dig at my neck and shoulders like she hates every piece of me. She’s right to, and, at the moment, I don’t give one damn about that. I’m balls deep and somewhere between rage and ecstasy.
Hand leaving my neck, she swipes at my face, shredding it. Just makes me more desperate to stay exactly where I am.
“I hate you,” she spits. Yeah, whatever. I shove in harder and lift her leg higher. Her back grates on the rough wall as I get my mouth closer to hers. She blinks and groans, air puffing from her lips. “I really fucking hate you.” I’d kiss her if it was anyone else. I’d enjoy the moment and get a feel of those lips on mine again after all this time. Instead, I stay buried inside her and just stare because, whether I like it or not, I don’t need to get any closer to her than I already am.
Tongue roaming my lips, I watch her lick her own. “You wish you hated me,” drawls out of me. I can’t say I don’t have some interest in her either. That’s what this has been, hasn’t it? Riled up aggression from both of us and my own damnconfusion about the situation. Didn’t help that she managed to hurt me. I felt those hits, was surprised by them, but damn, this was nice.
A loose, pissed smile lifts my mouth at the thought of her scheming and trying to get past me, and I slowly pull out of her and let go of her leg. She shifts her clothes straight immediately and looks to the left like she’s gonna run for it. “Don’t even think about it.” I tuck myself away and move between her and the end of the corridor. “You won’t surprise me again, and this ending won’t happen the same way, either.” She looks at the floor, then flicks her head up again at the sound of some girl wailing out her woes a way off.
“How many are here?”
“Don’t know. I don’t count them in.”
She slides down the wall with her head in her hands. “This is so screwed up.”
“You think?” Some bitter laugh falls out of me. “It’s just another day for me. Another number. Another fuck.” She glares up at me like she didn't wanna hear that. Tough. Not that it was true, if I’m honest with myself. “Get up.”
“Why? This is as much a cell as that room is. No way out. No hope. No anything.” She sobs a hassled tear or two, swiping them from her cheeks instantly. “I can’t even fight my way out. I’ve trained for that, practised and promised myself I’d never be in that position again, but it made no difference.” No. Nearly, though. “And what the hell was that? What am I doing? I’m fucking you now?” She shakes her head like she’s lost about what just happened. “I hate that. I hate you.”
