CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXMary Jo #2
My pussy makes wet sounds. He easily moves in and out of me now, every thrust lightly tapping the knife on my skin, reminding me it’s there. Pleasure and fear fill me. A man with a knife who clearly gets off on pain is fucking me.
And I love it.
I reach up and rake my fingers down his shirt and chest. He stiffens. I do it hard enough to draw blood and make eye contact with him. I say between thrusts, “For your…skincare…routine.”
He laughs and grabs my neck with a huge hand, not cutting off my air, but threatening to. He brings the knife to his mouth and licks up the blade. That makes him pound harder, his face fierce.
“Play with yourself, little one. That’s your reward for being such a good girl.”
I slip my hand down my stomach, knowing I can’t fight him on this.
That he’ll make me come regardless, so I may as well get as much pleasure out of it as I can.
It doesn’t take long, and I feel an orgasm building.
Cole tightens his hand as I tighten around his cock, and it heightens the sensations.
Soon I come around him. The hand around my throat garbles my cry.
“Filthy slut. Coming on my dick like a good girl.”
His words only make me come harder. He continues to pound into me. Once I come down, I take the hand that was on my pussy and put it to my lips. I lick my fingers off, giving him a mocking look.
Cole groans and pounds harder into me. I take that hand and feel down his chest until I find the wet mark where I cut him. I dig my fingers in.
He roars, slamming into me so hard my head bounces back against the wall. I feel a second orgasm come on quickly. Cole grips my chin and spits into my mouth.
My orgasm slams into me. It’s harder than the last one, coming in waves of electrifying pleasure. He also comes, pressing his body into mine and pulsing.
I gasp. When I come down off my high, I realize he’s still in me. I shove at him. He only growls and pushes in harder, claiming me, pinning me under him.
I realize there is warm wetness around my neck. What is that? Holy shit, is that blood? I reach my hand up.
Cole pulls out and gets up off me, turning the light on. I blink and look at my hand. There’s blood all over it. Oh my god. I’m bleeding pretty badly.
“Easy lemon drop, that’s not from you.”
I look up to see Cole has blood dripping down his forearm from a slash on his upper arm. He grins at me. “That was hot.”
“Holy shit, you’re bleeding.”
He looks at his arm briefly. “Happens when you play with knives.” He walks up to me and tilts my head up with a finger, looking at my neck. “Let’s get this washed out.”
As he brings me to the bathroom, I see white powder on the floor and a fire extinguisher. That bastard.
I go to the sink in the bathroom, but he turns the shower on. “Shower.”
I want to argue, but I still have endorphins flowing through me, and a shower sounds amazing. I see him stripping his clothes off. “No.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t do anything, little one. Get in.”
I glare at him. But I can’t stop him or what he has planned. I get in the hot water, and it feels like heaven.
I let out a small groan.
“Hush.” He steps in after me and looks at me with lust. I see he’s getting hard again.
I turn away and stick my face in the water, letting it run through my hair. There’s the snap of a bottle opening, and then I feel Cole’s hands on my back. I stiffen.
“Just washing,” he murmurs.
“I can do that.”
“I know you can.” He keeps rubbing the soap on my body.
It’s spearmint scented and smells like him.
He scrubs methodically, getting my arms, paying close attention to the cut on my neck, careful not to get soap in it.
He washes my tits and between my legs but those movements are methodical and not sensual.
As he bends down to get my legs, I see hash marks of scars all over his back.
I draw in a sharp breath.
He jerks his gaze up to my face. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I stare at him. Understanding flashes across his face, but he doesn’t say anything. He turns me away from him and massages soap into my hair.
What the hell. Where did he get those? They’re long but old, raised and white. They almost look like…he was whipped.
His hands are big and gentle. “I can hear your brain running. Stop that. It’s not a story you want to hear.” He continues massaging. It feels good, and my scalp is tingling. At this moment, I don’t want him to stop.
But he has to. I start to come to my senses, and for the first time, I don’t want to.
I’d like to just pretend this was hot sex with a hot guy.
Pretend like he isn’t riddled with signs of abuse.
Pretend I’m in the comfort of my own home.
Like there isn’t a girl being force-fed drugs upstairs.
Like one of the guys who kidnapped her, one of the guys who kidnapped me, didn’t think about shooting me last night. That they aren’t both batshit crazy.
I get out of the shower and see that Cole is still rock hard. And it makes heat flow through me again. I desperately need to distract myself from that and…everything.
“You’ll need to bandage that arm.” I eye him. He has red scratches down his chest and an oozing cut on his abdomen. “And that.”
He doesn’t even look at them. “I’ve had worse.”
“That’s not what I said,” I mutter. As I wrap a towel around myself, I see he’s smirking at me.
Oh god. It sounded like I cared there for a second. I glare at him, “But if you want to get an infection, by all means. Go ahead. It’ll make my life easier. I don’t even know why I suggested it in the first place.”
I march back to his room, where I find my shirt has been destroyed. I yank my pants on. “I only had three, and now I have two. Cocksucker.”
He follows me, chuckling, “I’ll buy you more ‘cause I don’t plan on stopping.”
I march past him and upstairs to the loft to get another shirt. By the time I come back downstairs, Cole is dressed in only his pants, his muscled chest on display.
I’m starving. I go through the fridge to see what we have. I end up pouring myself a bowl of cereal and groan when I take the first bite. It has that perfect crunch, and none of it has gone soggy. The food is heaven.
Cole also pours himself a bowl, and we eat in silence. I finish my first and go for another.
“Who was Jayden looking for last night?” I pour my milk, and Cole snatches it from me before I can finish it. I glare at him. He uses the rest in his bowl.
“Not sure which one.”
“Which one?” I look at him.
He looks at me for a second, then tosses the empty milk container at the trash. It misses and clatters to the ground.
“Someone scared him. Hurt him.”
“Yes.” He looks into my eyes.
“What happened?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Why don’t you ask him?”
I scoff, but Cole looks serious.
“Ask the man who kidnapped his ex, forced her to relapse, and snatched me up just to play games with her head?”
“There’s more than that.”
“Then tell me!”
He takes another bite and chews slowly. “Sage is not innocent, little one. Everything that goes around comes around.”
“Am I innocent?” The blood pounds in my ears.
He gives me a long look, staring into my soul. “Yes.”
“Then why am I here?”
“Because you got caught up in some shit that you shouldn’t have. And when you did, you caught his eye. And then you caught mine.”
I search his blue eyes. He doesn’t look away. My heart is racing. “Will you ever let me go?” All the other times, I knew what the answer to that question would be. This time, it feels like he’ll be honest with me. Which makes me want to throw up.
Cole doesn’t respond. Just stares. There’s heat and gentleness and…possession in his eyes.
Anger rolls through me. “Will you ever let me go, Cole? You said I’m innocent. You know I don’t belong here. You can make it right. Let me go home.”
He stands and walks slowly over to me. He tilts my chin up with his finger and drifts his lips down. They brush mine. “No, little one. No, I don’t think I will.”