Chapter 75
“My name is Camryn. Use it.”
He gives me that same sinister smile. “Lay down.”
“Or what?”
I try not to flinch at his calm proclamation. “You would kill your own child?”
“I have over forty children, Ms. Park. Half of them are probably dead already. I have no sentiments.”
He says it flippantly, with zero emotion.
His callousness shouldn’t be shocking, but it is.
When I don’t move his arm, it snakes out, lightning fast, and he drags me to the bed.
I kick and scream. He slaps me, and I still keep going, pushing the stinging pain away.
He yanks my arms above my head and hooks the shackle around my wrists.
I pull and tug, but he’s too heavy, and my other hand is also attached to the wooden frame.
He walks around the room, like he has all the time in the world to violate me.
“You know I am quite shocked that you chose a man like Dr. Hayes.”
He must see the surprise in my eyes because he laughs.
“Ah, yes, I know who your Stone is. I’ve known for a while.
I admire him. If he wasn’t a thief, I could use a man like him.
Efficient. Brutal. He’s quite good at what he does.
And it would seem he, too, likes beautiful things.
” This time, he leans over and touches my hair, dragging a strand across his nose.
“His other woman was not nearly as much fun. Or as valuable. She begged for me not to hurt her, you know.”
There’s a pang in my heart hearing about another woman that Stone may be involved with. “Who?”
“Ahh. So your man didn’t tell you about her? Interesting. She looked like you. I made sure of it.” He smiles evilly, and it tells all I need to know. He hurt her, and I have no doubt she’s dead. His smile communicates that what he did to her was heinous. Cara’s stories only add to the feeling.
“I wonder if you will scream for me to end it the same way she did.”
“You’re sick.”
“Am I?” He shrugs, negligently, unbothered. “Your man is far worse.”
I want to ask him what he means, but something tells me I don’t want to know.
“But she doesn’t matter. She served her purpose. The same way you will. Did you wash?”
“Wash? You’re disgusting. You want me clean so you can violate me?” I spit at him.
There’s nothing funny about the laugh that escapes his lips or the look in his eyes.
“I think now that I know how much he values you, I may breed you, Ms. Camryn Whitter Park. Our families and lineage are much more worthy of being joined. It’s still a marvel that you let him touch you.
Your father would be so disappointed. Does he know that you are playing the whore for a criminal? ”
“Apparently, you’re no better,” I sneer, thinking about the scars on Cara’s body.
Again, he laughs, throwing his head back, as if our conversation is a joke.
Then he nods soberly. “My other children won’t be as valuable as ours.
I’ve never much cared about my descendants.
But perhaps a son to carry on my work, or a daughter to use as a bargaining chip, might be worth the effort of caring. ”
He caresses my belly, looking maniacal, and I thrash, trying to get away from him.
He laughs at my bodily refusal. “So you prefer, El Búho? You let him soil you, but you do not want me?”
“I’d prefer him every fucking time!”
He yanks my hair, holding a fistful, and I feel some of the strands come out at the root.
“You will be fun to break. I have told you not to curse.”
He climbs on top of me, straddling me, and I feel his erection push into my stomach.
When he leans down, I turn my face away, keeping my mouth closed, but he uses my shackled arms to his advantage, gripping my jaw painfully, turning my head toward him.
Our mouths are mashed together, his tongue trying to push past my lips and into my mouth.
The pain increases, and tears come to my eyes.
I gag at his smell, trying to throw him off my body.
I yank and strain, trying to kick, but he has me trapped beneath him, my legs are splayed. His weight on my body is too heavy. I can barely breathe, feeling like I’m being suffocated.
He gets off the bed, sweating. Rage pours off him.
He opens his robe and I stare at his pale, slender body.
His penis is small and pink. I look at his cock and frown, making sure he sees my disgust. My lip is bleeding, and my face is throbbing from his slaps, but somehow it fuels my hatred of him. “It’s so small.”
He snarls and jerks at his penis. “You will regret your words, and your man will regret ever taking from me.” He leans over me and squeezes my breast painfully, before ripping my nightgown down the middle.
I twist away from him as much as my shackles will allow.
He continues tearing down until the nightgown is open, the edges shredded.
My stomach revolts when I watch him lick his lips, staring at my breasts. I beg in my mind for anything, something to happen. Someone to stop this.
The bite into my upper chest is nothing like Stone’s soft bites. The pain is excruciating, feeling like he took a chunk of flesh. He straddles me and slaps me over and over. Bitch. Whore. The words keep coming along with the blows to my face. Pain explodes in my eye.
He pulls out a knife, and genuine fear grips me.
It’s not like with Stone. This man means to rape and kill me.
He punctures my skin, tiny stabs that are painfully vicious.
I cry, sobbing for him to stop, but he laughs, biting my breast. The pain leaves me breathless.
When he raises his mouth, his lips are coated in blood, my blood.
I buck against him, but nothing helps. The tiny stabs continue, along with the bites to my belly.
My upper thigh. When he raises his head, steps away, and starts jerking off his penis.
In horror, I watch, bracing for the inevitable.
I sob, and he laughs.
His weight is suffocating. I feel his penis and I twist my body, desperate, knowing that any second he will penetrate me, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t.