15
Seventeen tallies. By the time I feel my toes wiggle again after the sixth and final dose, I have seventeen tally marks on my stomach. They added two more with me face down on the bed, and two more at the edge of the mattress. The exhausted bastards cheated and fucked me with a dildo and bred me while I sucked it clean. It was still better than the time they forced orgasms on me until I cried, though. Fingers, Manson’s tongue, the vibrator, the dildo. The tears on my face spurred them on to another pair of orgasms even as I became so overstimulated I was screaming and begging for them to stop. But I learned a lot about myself in that time. They were right. I was stronger than I thought, and I could handle far more than I expected.
And now I can’t wait for Asher to find out that Manson just snuck another one in. It makes me smile as I work my feet and hands trying to get the feeling back, but Manson himself looks scared. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lies, glancing over at the small space between his room door and the frame. “You doing okay?”
When he reaches over to rub my thigh softly it almost feels like he truly cares for me.
Almost.
“Yeah. Feels like pins and needles everywhere, but it’s nice to be able to move my wrists.” Concentrating, I bring my right hand over to the left and rub the sore skin. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing — I’m actually really fucking happy about what we did here... sated as fuck.” He swallows before continuing. “I guess I’m just worried about him.”
He nods toward Asher’s room like that’s supposed to be some wild revelation. “But why?”
“Well, a few reasons if I’m being honest,” he admits. “Why do you think it’s so important for him to breed you last?”
“Well, look at me. He needs to feel like he has total control of me. Just put the damn cuffs back on and he’ll be fine.”
“No. We took them off to give you a break for a reason, he doesn’t need that... he shouldn’t need that. That’s my point.”
Sighing, I reach over to fold my hand over his. “Asher will always fear me. Having me as incapacitated as possible, locked up in this house, completely at his mercy... it’s the only thing that convinces him that I won’t kill him. He’s not wrong, I look a hell of a lot like my mom. I tried to change my hair and dress differently and do my makeup before I came here, but I still look like her. I have her eyes. Until he learns to see me as my own person instead of an extension of her, he’ll forever feel like he has to have total control.”
With a frown he nods like he knew that, but it doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t like it. “Just thought he’d get there by now. I don’t know, sometimes he has moments where he looks at you differently, but then he opens his mouth and says something in that asshole way of his.”
So it’s not just me, then. I’ve noticed it too, but never really let myself believe it. Maybe I am making progress with him. Either way, I’m not sure I’ll ever see him as human — not as long as I can see the scar on my hand, anyway. “He only let me off the hook with the cuffs because I was paralyzed. I’m telling you, if you want to soften the blow of you stealing the last load, put them back on me before he notices the tally mark. Or let me take a shower right now and I’ll scrub them off before he sees.”
As tempted as he looks, Manson shakes his head. “He has to know. I won’t hide it even if I know it would make this go smoother. If this is going to work then he has to get used to you being mine too. He tries to pretend he isn’t, but he’s territorial as fuck.”
It’s almost cute that he still thinks this will have a happy ending. I take a moment to study the lines of his face, the way his dark blonde hair falls into his eyes, the muscles rippling down his bare chest and the tattoos that cover them. He’s so handsome I can’t fathom how he ended up tangling with my brother and the Provost in the first place, but his blind optimism in the face of all of it is almost charming. “I guess we’ll see then, hm? You may want to at least go tell him I can move again.”
Nodding, he gets up and leaves me alone in his room, giving me the time to look around at my surroundings better. There’s a small desk to my left with his laptop, a black bookshelf against the wall next to it that he seems to be using to store random things instead of books, and ahead of me is a dresser with a tv on top of it. Aside from his bed, there isn’t much else around besides the cheap glowing stars he’s placed on his ceiling and a photo of him and Asher from when they were younger.
I’m still staring over at it when they both come back in the room, and based on the way he looks, I’d guess Asher was falling asleep in his bedroom. “So you can move now? Is it tingling?”
His voice is thick with exhaustion, making me a little too hopeful that he won’t fuck me again right now. My whole body hurts. “It was worse a couple of minutes ago, but yes. I—” his eyes lock on my stomach, making it flip — “I’m stiff more than anything.”
A frown crinkles his forehead as he counts them more than once, no longer listening to what I’m saying or even whatever Manson starts saying because he cuts him off in the middle of it. “Why is there an uneven number?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, stalling and hoping Manson will grow a pair and tell him. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure I know how to count?”
“Because I fucked her one last time, what’s it matter if the count is uneven?”
Asher’s stare shoots daggers at Manson. “Because it matters.”
Manson huffs humorlessly. “How about you be real and say w—”
“It fucking matters. It’s uneven. You fucked her first, I fuck her last. Fucking even,” he snaps, turning his attention to me. “What part of your body can you move?”
Here we go. Bracing myself, I stand up on extremely weak legs, holding onto the bed frame to keep myself upright. “All of it, but it’s not easy. Everything hurts, Asher. I’m exhausted and starving and need a shower. Are you really going to do this?”
He looks on the verge of grabbing me as his jaw ticks and I watch his fists clench three times like he’s holding himself back. “Yeah... I am.”
This time when he lays me down it feels more like a punishment. He maneuvers me so I’m on my stomach and pushes my left leg up, ignoring Manson completely as he cusses at him and storms out of the room, and for a few long moments all I feel is him jacking himself off trying to get hard.
I’m not sure how long he makes me lay there, but it’s long enough that my muscles start cramping again. “Ash, we can take a break. We can do this later,” I urge, leaving ‘ or never’ silent.
Ash disappears out of the room a second later, his door slamming behind him just before Manson comes back to help me stand. “What happened?”
“He’s all fucked out,” I mutter, eyes widening as I feel the evidence of what they did drip down my thighs. “I’m sure that’ll somehow be my fault.”
Rolling his eyes, he scoops me up and carries me off to the bathroom. “Whatever. I ran the bath, but I think you should shower first so you’re not bathing in cum... wait, never mind. That’s kind of hot.”
“No, it’s not. I’m sitting in fucking three day ol— ew. No, I’m not bathing in it. Shock me all you want.” My legs nearly give out when he sets me in the shower and I think I hate them all over again. One dose was actually fun. Two, okay. But six? They didn’t care what damage it did to me. “I’m gonna end up breaking my damn neck.”
“You’re fine, I got you.” Surprisingly, he does. He stays there with me and showers us both without many words, then places me into the tub to soak my muscles. “Feel any better?”
“Lightheaded, but it’s nice to be able to move again. Is this... going to become a regular thing?”
Manson wraps a towel around his waist and leans back against the vanity. “No. As of now we haven’t made plans to do this again, but we might want to play again in the future. I’m thinking six doses was a little excessive though. Your muscles are probably stiff as fuck.”
I don’t dignify that with a response other than narrowed eyes and what I hope is my best bitchface yet.
“If it helps at all, I’d agree to do it again if you promised not to do more than two doses at once. But you have to fucking warn me first. At least let me stretch and eat first.”
“That’s fair,” he agrees. “In my defense, I did plan on warning you, but a certain brute thought his way was the best way.”
As usual.
Closing my eyes, I pretend he isn’t there as I sink down into the water a little deeper. I need food and some uninterrupted sleep, but for now, Manson’s right. This feels amazing on my muscles. And if I know Asher at all, it won’t be long before he comes back ready to settle the score.
I just hope he stops there.