Chapter 8
Idug that pen-knife deep into his thigh.
Then I twisted in panic and flung myself out of the chair, stumbling out the door and into the dark hallway.
Hastily, I shucked off my shoes so I could run faster.
I knew the way now. One right turn, then a left, and then I’d be at the western stairwell. Once I got there I could get all the way down five floors and out to the driveway where one of the cars would match this key.
Luckily the hallways were dark despite the fact that it was only the mid-afternoon and if I avoided the rectangles of watery light from the medieval-looking windows Gabriel wouldn’t be able to see me.
The walls really were thick, because once I turned the corner I couldn’t hear a thing.
One floor down. . .
I spun around the corner and pelted down to the next level.
Only three floors to go. . .
But as I turned the corner, a shadow darkened the window, blotting out the sunlight.
And suddenly a dark body swung in the window and I was knocked sideways.
“Now, why did you think you’d be able to get away?” he mused, stroking my hair with one of his terrifyingly massive hands as I desperately hoped the stone walls would open up and let me disappear.
“I’m a fast runner.”
He shook his head.
“You have a lot of confidence, Lark. You think you can outrun me? All the way off the property? You must be some athlete.”
Those licks of dark hair caressed his cheekbones as he narrowed his eyes.
I had to distract him from searching me!
Something brushed against my leg and I looked down and it was the penknife.
He followed my gaze and wrenched out the knife.
It came out with a sickening pop and he flipped it around so the handle was extended toward me.
“Do it again, baby girl. See if it stops me.”
“You’re insane!” I whimpered.
It was truly terrifying to be faced directly with insanity, to have insanity right directly in front of me, one big arm pressing me against the wall, his thick cock hard on my stomach, that taunting look on his face.
He could do anything to me.
He could make me come.
Gabriel tightened his grip, bent down and kissed me.
One hand was on my jaw, popping it open so he could plunder my mouth, smelling like blood and darkness, his hard body pressing me into the dark stone, kissing me so hard I felt blood on my tongue.
I shoved against his chest. It was like trying to move a stone statue, as heat flickered between my thighs.
“I wish I’d stabbed you in the gut,” I said through gritted teeth as I wrenched away from him.
“Do you think that would stop me?” he asked curiously, cocking his head like he was a fucking massive velociraptor contemplating a worm, and then he wrapped my fingers around the dripping pen knife and stabbed himself in the gut.
I shrieked. Then screamed again, so hard I couldn’t hear myself.
“Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to see what it would feel like.”
I tried to drop the knife, but he wouldn’t let me, his grip tightening painfully on my own.
He reached down with one hand to his gut and raised his fingers, wet with his own blood.
“Only made me want to fuck you more,” he said, in such a cold, clinical tone that I screamed again.
There were dozens of other people in this awful manor. Where were they? Why did no one ever hear me?
Logically, I knew the blow hadn’t killed him.
But the way he had done it merely as—some kind of depraved experiment—terrified me.
His fingers wrapped around my waist, slipping under my shirt to smear blood all over my skin.
“You’re a clever girl, you know that? That’s why it’s so fun to play with you.”
“Let me go!” I gritted out.
“No. Beg for mercy or I’ll punish you.”
“Mercy? From you? I don’t think you’re capable of it!” I said.
He chuckled.
“That’s not begging,” he smirked.
Then he put one hand on my blouse and wrapped his big fingers around my belt loops and threw me out the fourth-floor window.
I screamed bloody murder, my hands flailing helplessly in the air, and I began to plummet as the manor grounds swam before my eyes—the gnarled blighted trees, the stagnant dead pond, the crooked gravestones stretched out in the distance.
The air swallowed up my screams, and I began to tumble sideways, down to those sharp stones I knew were waiting there, ready to kill me, when I suddenly landed with a jarring thump on the straw roof of a small barn.
The hell!
For a minute I had to catch my breath as the scratchy straw dug into my throat.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I squawked angrily.
Then he landed with a thump on the roof beside me, his mouth twisted in a smirk as I was still spitting straw out of my mouth.
“Now, why would I want to kill you, doctor?”
Desperately, I tried to scrabble away but he grabbed me by the nape of my neck and dragged me back down to him, ripping my slacks down as I dug my hands desperately into the straw.
“No!” I whimpered.
“Yes,” he growled in my ear. “Always yes with you, Lark.”
He only laughed at my protests and used one hand to shove my face into the straw and I heard the clink of a belt as he got his cock out.
“Ass up,” he ordered.
“No!” I cried hotly.
But he wanted obedience—putting his hands on my ass and beginning to press one big finger into my asshole, making me squeal in distress and shove up desperately on the wooden roof to obey him.
He pulled me up by my asshole, laughing cruelly as I was forced to tip my hips up.
“That’s right,” he said. “That’s how you should present your cunt to me all the time.”
As usual, he gave me no time to prep, just spread my cheeks and thrust inside me, my insides groaning at the intrusion, the walls of my cunt desperately trying to accommodate his size.
Gabriel’s hips snapped forward, driving me into the straw and hard boards.
“Fuck, that’s good.”
I threw a fistful of straw back at him, and he only slapped my ass with a crack so loud you could have heard it back in the city.
“Let me go!”
But there was nothing I could do to escape him. All my efforts to drag myself away were in vain. He was too powerful. I wriggled desperately one way and then the other, but his hands held my hips steady, forced my body into a steady, pounding rhythm.
Glancing down, I saw his hands streaked with blood, smearing it all over my body, too.
It was like all my scholarly training fully deserted me as my core heated up uncontrollably, his cock dragging past my sensitive walls, my clit ground into the boards.
“Your father is still better in bed,” I gritted out angrily, even though it was a stupid thing to say.
Lucian had been a sensitive, generous lover. Totally unlike how Gabriel dropped my hips to put a massive forearm on my back and force my face into the straw.
“Fucking brat,” he said. “My father’s old-ass sperm can’t get you pregnant. Mine will.”
I screamed again as he pressed a finger into my asshole, forcing overpowering sensations on me.
His balls slammed into my ass and thighs, making them ache with each punishing thrust.
Fuck.
I was spread so wide, felt so raw, but still I was going to come for him.
I clenched with weak submission around his cock, my cunt gripping and releasing, feeling my body draw out his release with frantic pulls.
Gabriel groaned loudly.
“Lark, you better tip this ass up and take every fucking drop of cum in my balls. I want you pregnant and I want it now.”
I felt dizzy as he unloaded hot cum into me, growling as his fingers dug into my trapped body, forcing all that release deep inside me.
“Fucking hell, your cunt feels so good.”
My knees trembled as my body sagged onto the scratchy roof again.
But Gabriel wasn’t done.
He was never done. Fucking inexhaustible fountain of cum, he was barely soft before he was thrusting in and out of me again, the sound of our releases sloppy and wet.
“No—no,” I whimpered weakly.
But for as much cum as escaped with each thrust of his hips, he’d add more.
“Gabriel—it’s too much—” I whimpered.
“Say my name again,” he ordered, and I felt his balls draw up, felt the precum drip down my clit, unholy mixture of our releases soaking my pants, spraying up to my belly button.
Suddenly, there was a crack underneath me as I tried twisting away in panic, and then as Gabriel thrust roughly into me the wood split in a long, jagged tear.
We both fell through the roof, me shrieking like a banshee as we landed in the hayloft, sending a huge cloud of dust into the air.
I struggled to my knees, scrambling away from him as cum ran down my leg.
“Leave me alone!” I cried, my fingers searching desperately for the ladder down.
They closed on something unfamiliar, something bony, with a slick viscous goo.
“What the—?”
The dust cleared and I saw what I was holding in my hand.
It was a shin bone.
Because there was a wet skeleton lying there in the dusty corner of the barn.