Page 122 of Jewel of the Assassin
Shame, powerlessness, betrayal all tear through me, shredding the lining of my heart.
Valentina cannot see this. She just fucking can’t.
39
“When Roman is dead?”
VALENTINA
Afirestorm rips through my blood at the sight of that witch bitch cunt with her hand onmydick, her mouth onmyfucking cock. The pathetic, littleblyad—whore—putting her disgusting hands all overmyhusband!
I’m gripping the edge of the platform with white-knuckled fingers, heart slamming against my chest. I barely register Anton stroking my hair from behind me, his hands light on my hips, with his raging erection prodding my back.
“There’s a good boy,” I overhear the bitch say. No more than fifty feet away. And one long drop from the platform.
I know how hard Roman is struggling not to get hard. I don’t blame him when it happens. Not after the orgasms Anton forced on me the other night. Roman and I share the same pain, the same agony, the same torture. My twin flame. My head. His soul.
After she rises, this Selene pats his wet dick with approval. It’s a semi at best. All I need to do is fucking walk into a room, andmy husband gets hard. He just needs to watch me from the shadows to get even harder.
My breath catches as she stretches out a hand. The man on the other side of the bench hands her the black bag. What the hell is she possibly—oh, hell, no!
The firestorm hits my eyes. All I see is red.
I don’t give a fuck if I’m punished. No more fucks to give. Nothing else matters.
I jam my elbows into Anton’s ribs, so hard, he doubles over. I don’t think. I don’t breathe.
I jump.
Ten feet of pure air before the ground catches me. I’m up as the bruises start to form, scrambling toward my husband as fast as I possibly can. I know the guards are pursuing me…and Anton, but all I see is Roman.
“Roman!” I scream, loud and shrill.
He yanks his head to one angle. “Valya, go! Get out of here!”
I don’t listen. I run headlong right for the bitch, ready to rip apart the fucking strap-on with my claws and teeth. She turns to me with a sadistic smile. I get within an inch before I’m dragged back.
“No, get off me!” I scream, attacking the guard with everything I have. When his hold loosens, I get one small gap of space, desperately lunging again. “Roman, I’m here.” Two seconds. I touch his face for two seconds. “I’m right here. It won’t change anythi?—”
This time, Anton catches me, dragging me back. I kick and thrash and bite and scratch—until he grabs my hair, bringing me down, then dragging me up the platform steps. My scalp screams from the pain. The straps of my dress fall off my shoulders, exposing half my breasts. I’m still struggling and writhing when Anton forces me onto the platform, stomach down, his body pinning mine. One tug on my hair to yank my face up.
“Valya, don’t look!” Roman yells.
It’s the firsttime I don’t obey.
When she shoves the metal phallus through his back hole, sodomizing him,rapingthe only man I’ve ever loved, I know I’ll summon all the damned legions of hell for the highest order of vengeance.
A strangled scream escapes his throat. The scream knifes through me, cutting me open. I’ve n-never…heard h-him scream.
“Oh, God!” I whimper as she ruthlessly fucks him, pulling out, then ramming back in. The dildo has raised points. And…bloodcoats the metal.
Roman shakes. He dry heaves.
I can’t stop it now. I retch. Right there on the platform, I vomit up the little food I ate earlier.
The degradation is another depth of pain. Because she and the man alternate, sucking him, milking him, but he never comes. Worse is how dozens of crowd members are getting off on the sight. Some fucking each other, others are masturbating.
I want to cut out every single one of their eyeballs and toss them into the Bering Strait for the fish.
