Chapter 43
Genevieve
Uneasiness swirls in my gut as I kneel in Grady’s living room. There’s something about tonight’s meeting that has me on edge, but nothing appears out of place. He let me into his house but disappeared into the kitchen to leave me to undress and wait for him. None of that is unusual.
What is atypical, however, are the multiple sets of footsteps that echo off the hardwood floors.
My safe word sits on my tongue, waiting to be wielded like a whip, but I press my lips together to keep it from escaping prematurely.
I need his money, and more importantly, I need to stay off Leo’s radar.
My wrist is barely healed enough that it can be out of the sling, though it’s still in a cast.
With my palms facing the ceiling, my eyes remain on the floor as the men around me begin to speak, one hand even sliding through my hair.
“You weren’t kidding, Grady. She’s a truly beautiful specimen.” The hand in my hair tightens its grip, massaging my scalp in a way that has me clenching my jaw.
“She’s even prettier when you get her warmed up,” Grady comments as he reaches down to slide his fingertips over my cheek. “Look at me, Genevieve.”
Unable to resist the natural call of obedience, I flick my gaze up to his, peering at him through my lashes as I keep my chin dipped respectfully.
Something cruel lurks beneath his surface tonight, sending a shiver down my spine, but there’s no running from this, not that I want to.
There’s a masochist living in me and perhaps it’s time she’s let out to play.
Besides, he wouldn’t do anything to break the trust we’ve established. I’m safe.
“You’re going to be good for me tonight, won’t you?”
“Yes, Master.” I nod, never breaking eye contact. He smiles, and the sadistic twist of his lips makes my nipples tighten.
Righting himself, he steps back, leaning against the mantel as four men circle me, crowding my space. I gaze up at their faces, memorizing them, although I can feel more eyes on me, as if there’s more of an audience that’s out of my sightline, the low thrum of voices solidifying my fear.
Three of the men are middle-aged and one is younger, but I recognize them all from the news. I wonder if the citizens who voted for them to be their representatives know what they’re doing on the weekend.
The one in front of me squats down, while another one yanks my head back by my hair, making my scalp sting and tears prick my eyes. Fear spirals through me like a corkscrew making a mess of my insides.
“Oh, no, you can’t cry yet. We’ve only just started.”
Tears fall from my face, dripping onto the floor as I stare up at Grady. He simply brings his tequila to his lips, taking a long sip, watching the scene unfold before him. His free hand is wrapped around his erection as he strokes it languidly.
My body aches, marred with a smattering of bruises, inside and out, but it has nothing on the pain of my heart shredding as though a pair of scissors have been taken to it. I’m bleeding out internally, the remnants of who I was when I walked into this house spilling into the cavity of my body.
I’m covered in fluids; some tacky, others crusty and dry.
The urge to vomit is strong, and it’s simply a miracle that I haven’t emptied my stomach yet, but I’m sure I will.
Just then, I’m shoved forward, my skull slamming against the hardwood floor.
Luckily, I don’t feel whatever happens next as my body has finally begun to go numb.
Red has bubbled on my tongue for the last couple of hours, but I haven’t said it.
As strange as it seems, I want to trust Grady not to take things too far, even if he already has.
Maybe I’m delusional, considering what I’m enduring, but I want to be good for Grady.
I want to give him what he needs. Still, I screw my eyes shut again, attempting to block out what’s happening to me.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to suffer Leo’s wrath either. That would be far worse than taking four cocks. Then again, death would be worse than most anything.
Gang-bangs aren’t my kink. I far prefer a private scene between two people, but I understand their appeal for others.
This is testing me, and not in a fashion that I enjoy.
There’s an obvious disconnection from Grady that I don’t like, and I’ve been used in a way that doesn’t turn me on.
I’m closer to using my safe word than ever before.
Outnumbered and utterly vulnerable, I have no choice but to survive, to endure. With my eyes closed and my body detached from my mind, I don’t know how many men are here hurting me. I only know that it’s happening, that I’m living through the unimaginable.
I wince as the man behind me comes inside of my ass with a grunt and pulls out roughly.
I’m almost sure I’m bleeding. Pain spears through my knees and my arms throb with the effort of holding myself up.
My broken bones that have only recently fused back together threaten to snap again with the pressure.
When the sensation of being touched finally disappears, I peel my sticky eyelids apart to find Grady setting his drink down and stepping forward now that his friends have all come in or on me, his engorged cock dangling in front of my face.
“Tongue out, you worthless whore.”
I don’t want to do this.
My tongue emerges, and he stares at it until drool falls like wet strings. Only then does he slide the head of his dick over the rough pad, and I taste the leaked droplets of pre-cum.
“Suck.”
“Red,” I whisper in response, my body trembling, water blurring my vision entirely.
He snorts. “I said, suck.”
My voice is hoarse, but stronger when I repeat, “Red.”
The unyielding glint in his gaze has a tidal wave of despair whooshing through my veins. This is too much and has gone too far. This isn’t the Grady I know, the Grady I trusted. This is the real Grady Blandon.
“I heard you the first time. Now, wrap your lips around me and fucking suck.”
What happens if I don’t? Will he kill me? I don’t want to die. I’m utterly alone, and frankly, terrified. He looks at me like I’m nothing to him, just a hot mouth with a pulse.
Feeling like I have no other choice, I latch my lips around him, licking and sucking like my life depends on it, desperate for this ordeal to be over, anxious for his affection and soothing words. I need that more than I need air right now. I need to feel valued again.
How has he not seen the signs that I’m not in this scene? How has he not noticed how uncomfortable I am? If I give him what he needs, maybe then, he’ll give me what I need.
Lacing his fingers into my sweaty hair, he plows in and out of my mouth, and I relax my throat for him. As he comes in my mouth with a throaty groan, I wonder how I’ve misplaced my trust so spectacularly.
When he finally pulls out, he orders calmly, “Put your clothes back on.”
The world narrows as if I’ve been thrust under water and held there until all the oxygen has seeped from my lungs. I blink at him, anger, fear, and disappointment swirling in my stomach like a hurricane building in the gulf.
This isn’t how aftercare with Grady has ever gone before; he’s never just dismissed me. He’s always scooped me into his arms, held me tightly on the couch as he soothed me.
When the storm reaches a category five, I stand on shaking legs and counter with a surprisingly steady, strong voice, uncaring of our audience. “No. You used me. You let your friends use me. At the very least, you owe me aftercare.”
His hand darts out, painfully cracking across my face, leaving my cheek on fire.
He grips me by the hair as his fingertips dig into my scalp, making my eyes burn with new tears as he sneers, and it strikes me that this man is nothing more than a wolf in disguise.
My hands rattle at my sides as his comrades chuckle, but I simply hold my chin up, even as cum and blood leak down my legs.
@livingh3ll would never treat me like this. The thought comes out of nowhere, and it makes the backs of my eyes burn, but I stop myself from crying.
“I don’t owe you shit. You’re just a whore.”
He shoves me down, my knees buckling before slamming against the unyielding floor.
I stare up at Grady, memorizing every line on his face, every strand of gray hair on his head, vowing to myself to never come back here again.
No matter what Leo does to me, I will not return.
But I will get revenge for this. I will watch as the light disappears from this man’s eyes.
A burning need to hurt him sparks to life in my chest, and I fan the flame as I slip my dress and shoes back on. By the time I’m redressed, there’s a wildfire-sized need for vengeance raging proudly in my veins.
Without another word, I scoop up my purse and give the men my back, but just as I’m about to round the corner, Grady calls, “I’ll see you Friday.”
Not a chance.
I don’t stop, don’t reply, the snick of the front door closing behind me the only sound. Outside, I gulp down the fresh air, even as more tears prick my eyes, but I don’t cry, not until I’m three blocks away, and pulling out my phone, ignoring the missed call from the unknown number.
Dialing for help, tears don’t fall until Marcus’s voice swims through the phone line. “Gen? What is it?”
His comforting, warm voice opens the floodgates, and between sobs, I tell him, “I need…come get me, please.”
After giving him my location, I sink onto a bench at a neighborhood park to wait.
I’m a fool. I gave my trust away too freely. I didn’t trust my own gut instincts that warned me against him in the beginning. Instead, he burrowed beneath my defenses, and I allowed him to breach my castle without so much as a breath of warning. There’s no one to blame but myself.
Everyone in this town is a liar.
Tears track down my face, falling onto my satin green dress like fat raindrops. Opening a browser on my phone, I log into my chats with @livingh3ll.
There’s a message waiting from him.
@livingh3ll: I swear you’re the only thing keeping me going.
My hiccupping sobs become more audible as I read and reread his words. Outside of Corinne and Marcus, he may be the only person worthy of my trust, the only other person who’s truly earned it.
As I type my reply, my thumbs tremble.
@dc_d0ll: How are you? You sound as if things are bad wherever you are.
I don’t know where he’s stationed, but I could guess based on the news and the state of foreign affairs at the moment.
I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t worried about him.
No one would notify me if something happened to him, he’d just drop off the Earth, and I’d be left with nothing but unanswered questions.
My tears continue to fall as I think about what my life would be like if I lost him. He owns a piece of my heart, as ridiculous as it is for me to have given that to a stranger online.
I should’ve followed his advice, should have trusted my instincts. I didn’t, and now I’m sitting on a park bench, emotionally and physically bruised. I was na?ve, giving away such a precious gift so freely.
The blue light dims and I tap the screen to bring it back to life and type another message.
@dc_d0ll: I should’ve listened to you and listened to my gut. I’m developing a nasty habit of trusting the wrong people.
Locking my screen, I stare at the empty playground and declare to myself that tonight was the last night I’d ever submit. I’ll never again allow myself to be controlled by a man or woman.
This is the night I change my life: it’s mine, and it’s high time I own the fuck out of it.