Catching Pretty (Lovely Broken Doll #2)

30. Ava

AVA

A scream tore from my throat as Ty dragged me out from under the table. I thrashed, kicking out, trying to break free. But his grip was relentless, unyielding.

Gravel scraped against my stomach as my dress bunched around my legs.

“You broke the rules, Ava. And now there’s a price.”

A surge of instinct took over.

I twisted in his grip, clutching the dibber like a weapon, its tip gleaming in the pale light.

Without thinking, I drove it toward him, burying the metal tip into his upper arm. Blood welled up, flowing hot and dark around the shaft.

He cursed, his grip around my ankle loosening just enough.

I wrenched myself free and scrambled to my feet, bolting down the row, every step a heartbeat closer to the door—to freedom .

But his presence loomed right behind me, closing in, his breath hot on my neck. Despite the terror, something dark and electric sizzled down my spine. I could feel him there, just inches away.

Ty lunged, his arm snaking around my waist, pulling me to the ground. His body was a cage, solid and immovable.

“Bad Ava,” he hissed, his voice a rough murmur that sent a thrill of fear through me, a promise of retribution.

His hand pressed my cheek into the dirty concrete floor and I winced, but my nipples were hard and my pussy was wet.

What was wrong with me?

I fought back, trying to buck him off, but all I succeeded in doing was rubbing my ass over his cock which was hardening in his pants.

“You fucking stabbed me.” He waved the dibbler, red with his blood, in my face.

“You deserve to be stabbed.” I spat back. Even though as he had me pinned down, his weight over me, I was in no position to sass.

There was just something about this Ty that made me want to fight him.

Ty chuckled and it was cold and cruel. “So do you.”

Fear tightened around me, icy and unrelenting. No —Ty wouldn’t actually hurt me… would he?

But he didn’t hesitate. His hand wrapped firmly around my hips, pulling me back until my body was forced into a position of pure vulnerability. He twisted my arm up behind me, pinning me to the ground, my upper body pressed against the cool gravel .

Every instinct screamed at me to fight, but the way he held me—secure, unyielding—left me helpless, exposed.

A soft whimper escaped my lips. I was at his mercy, and he knew it.

He pushed my hem up over my ass, my dress bunching around my waist, then tore off my panties so my pussy was exposed. Cold air rushed against my wet folds, sending tingles across my skin.

I panted, even as I squirmed, trying to get away. But all I did was hurt my shoulder as he twisted my arm harder against my back.

“Ow!” My sharp exhale blew dust and dried leaves across the concrete floor. “Please stop. I’ll be good.”

“No, Ava,” he growled. “You knew the rules. I warned you not to make me mad. You did it anyway.”

I gasped as I felt something cold and metal at my pussy entrance.

“You must be punished.”

I had just enough time to realize it was the dibbler I’d stabbed into his arm before he thrust it into me.

The metal spread apart my pussy, my walls clenching around the foreign object, even as a wave of pleasure shot through me.

I cried out, a mixture of shock and unwanted pleasure, the cold metal warming inside me, my body betraying me as it responded to the intrusion.

Ty’s breath was hot on my neck as he leaned over me, his chest pressed against my back.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a dark caress. “Take your punishment like a good girl.”

He began to thrust the dibbler in and out with agonizing roughness as he ground against me, his hard cock against my thigh.

Each thrust, on the verge of pleasure and pain, sent sparks of sensation through my core. I bit my lip, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to escape.

The greenhouse filled with the obscene sounds of my wetness as Ty worked the tool inside me.

“Fuck, Ava, you’re so fucking wet.”

The scent of my arousal mingled with the metallic tang of blood from his arm.

My fingers of my free hand clawed at the floor, seeking purchase against the onslaught of sensations.

Then he pulled it out and I slumped to the concrete in relief and, strangely, disappointment. My punishment was over.

But I had the thought too soon. He rubbed the wet dibbler against my puckered back hole. I flinched against it. No. No one had ever.

And yet a part of me ached to be violated in that way.

A whimper escaped my lips as Ty pressed the blunt tip of the dibbler against my virgin hole.

My body trembled, torn between fear and a perverse curiosity.

“Please,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if I was begging him to stop or continue.

Ty’s grip on my arm loosened slightly, his thumb caressing my skin in an oddly tender gesture.

“Relax,” he murmured. “It’ll hurt less if you don’t fight it.”

I felt the pressure increase as he slowly pushed the tool inside. The stretch burned, my body resisting the invasion .

Tears pricked my eyes, but I forced myself to breathe deeply, willing my muscles to relax.

Inch by torturous inch, the dibbler slid deeper. The pain mingled with an unexpected pleasure, sending shock waves through my body.

Then I heard his belt clinking as he undid it, heard his zipper lower.

And I felt the head of his cock at my pussy entrance.

My breath caught in my throat as I felt the hot, velvety tip of Ty’s cock press against my slick folds. A shudder ran through me—fear, anticipation, and shameful desire all tangled together.

“You’re mine, Ava,” Ty growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Every. Inch. Of. You.”

With each word, he pushed into me, stretching me wider than the dibbler had. The dual sensations of fullness—his cock in my pussy and the metal tool in my ass—were overwhelming.

I cried out, my body trembling as it struggled to accommodate him.

Ty’s hand snaked around to seize my throat, muffling my cries.

“Go on,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. “Scream. No one can hear you.”

Ty began to fuck me, his thrusts hard and punishing. Each one pushed the dibbler deeper into my ass, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through my body.

I whimpered against the violation, tears streaming down my face.

The greenhouse seemed to close in around us, the air thick with the scent of earth and arousal. The plants that surrounded us were silent witnesses to my punishment, their leaves rustling softly as if in sympathy.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a dark caress. “Take it all. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before defying me.”

My body betrayed me, responding to his touch despite my mind’s protests. Heat pooled in my lower belly, a familiar tension building.

I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t deny the pleasure that mingled with the pain.

Ty hissed. “Fuck. So tight. Not going to last long.”

Neither was I, my own orgasm barreling toward me no matter how much I didn’t want it. Shouldn’t want it.

This was a betrayal to my shadow.

But my warden was determined to ruin me.

Ty snaked his hand around my waist, his fingers finding my clit. He rubbed it in tight, furious circles.

“Come for me.”

“No,” I choked out.

This was wrong. I couldn’t let myself come. I couldn’t betray Ciaran like that.

Finding release during Ty’s twisted therapy was one thing. But this?

I was thinking clearly, no drugs in my system, or at least, my mind was thinking. My body had already given in.

“Yes.”

Ty slapped my clit and a sharp burst of pain cut through my protests.

That was all it took. All it took to break the dam.

I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry, Ciaran.

My body exploded with sensation, every nerve ending firing at once. The orgasm ripped through me with brutal intensity, my walls clenching around Ty’s cock and the metal dibbler in my ass as waves of pleasure crashed over me.

I screamed but it came out a mere croak against his hand squeezing around my throat, my vision going white as my back arched.

Ty growled, his rhythm faltering as my pussy milked him. With a final, punishing thrust, he pulled out, his hot cum lashing across my back, marking me as his.

For a long moment, the greenhouse was silent save for our ragged breaths and soft rain beginning to patter on the glass roof. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of soil and green things.

Slowly, Ty pulled the dibbler from my ass and I whimpered, hearing it clatter to the ground as he tossed it aside.

He unbuttoned his black shirt, wincing as he shrugged it off his injured arm, then folded the fabric and, with surprising gentleness, used it to clean me up between my legs.

The tenderness in his touch stunned me, a jarring contrast to the ruthless punisher he’d been just seconds ago, almost as if he was… sorry for what he’d done. Almost.

I shoved his hand away, reminding myself that I was supposed to be angry at him.

Ty sat back on his heels, watching me, his sex and blood-soaked shirt crumpled in his lap, the flow from the puncture wound in his arm gradually slowing.

For a long moment, we just stared at each other, tension thickening the air between us.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “You’re bleeding. ”

He glanced down at the wound, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch.”

I fought back a reluctant smile, only Ty would quote Shakespeare in a moment like this.

My gaze drifted over the rows of plants in the greenhouse, each one steeped in a strange, ominous beauty.

I recognized the dark-green winding tendrils of the South American vine known to produce curare, the poison Seamus had once told me was used in the drug I found in Liath’s bedroom.

Farther down, I spotted the delicate white hemlock flowers, untouched by the breeze that managed to sneak in through the open greenhouse door.

Then I noticed foxgloves with their tall spikes of tubular blooms, a vibrant shade of violet, and deadly nightshade, its purple-black berries nestled among drooping deep-green leaves.

A sudden realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

Every single plant in this greenhouse… was poisonous .

Then I spotted it—the oleander.

Its clusters of pale-pink and white flowers deceptively beautiful, with thick, waxy leaves glistening in the low light.

This was the plant that had ended her life.

My chest tightened as I remembered the letters I’d found in Mona’s room, her desperate words, her pleas in those fading ink stains.

A chill ran through me, an unshakeable feeling of dread and grief, mixed with the burden of knowing.

The memory of Ty’s face, his anguish and his intensity, flashed through my mind. Ty spent years haunted by his mother’s death .

No matter how much I wanted to keep the truth hidden, no matter how much it would hurt him, I knew I couldn’t.

He needed to know the truth.

I took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle on my shoulders.

“Ty, I have something to show you.”