21. Chapter 21 #2
I wanted to be punished; to prove I could worm around him and crush enough of his spirit he can’t breathe with or without me. Delicious irony. Just when I think he’s going to choke me out, he rips away, hooks his hands under my arms and hauls me off the floor.
My hands connect with his chest the second my feet anchor down—lips numb and sensitive, throat tender from the aggression, sends my anger flaring.
“Get away from me!”
Elias swings, grabbing a wrist, and spins me like I weigh nothing—like I am nothing. Like he hasn’t spent years pretending to care about me. Asshole’s so fast my brain jounces inside my skull, but I quickly forget about the dizziness when pain spears through my arm.
Wasting little time, his weight slams against my back, obstructing my escape if I so much as think of weaseling my way out. Arching, pushing, fighting to flee his grasp, he binds an arm around me and yanks me to him so hard it knocks the air out of me.
Snaring my throat, he restricts my air flow. At the small of my back, his swollen cock grinds a mixture of saliva and precum into my clothing.
I silently cry for help, my ears burning through hard jerks and desperate attempts at gasping. One second is all he allows when I start to scream.
“Safeword, or shut the fuck up.”
“Fuck you!”
“Working on it.”
Bucking, pulling at my wrist, hell every damn move does nothing to break me free from his grasp. Just when I think it loosens, an unbearable pain sinks into the top of my right shoulder. My knees buckle beneath me when I turn to see his teeth gouge the cotton of my shirt.
“Elias!” I screech.
I…I can’t do this!
My nerves and senses are so fucking overwhelmed. Every touch, slap, jab of his fingers, rip of my hair, and throb between my thighs has me on the precipice of ruin. Shying away, he bites harder. It’s concurrently excessive and not enough.
Relief rushes over me when he breaks the skin. Heat blooms, spreads, and bulldozes the rest of my resistance.
Freeing my wrist, he plunges his hand down the front of my shorts. Dangerous fingers instantly find my clit, swollen and throbbing like a freshly hammered thumb. Circle after circle, he teases me—my legs wobble from the devastating sensation.
“Exactly what I expected. Liar.”
Greedily, I grind my ass back, and make him hiss. If I’m going to come apart, so will he. I roll my hips forward too, giving him no choice but to slide them inside of me. Both directions are maddening.
So good, he feels so damn good. I want more but I’m too afraid to ask—I had to beg just to get here.
Controlled, Elias bends me over the bed—further and further until my knees have no other choice than to yield.
I land face first on the plush surface, soft cotton muffles my pathetic whines when his fingers slip out of me—desperate for him.
I’ll be damned if he leaves me empty and needy, chasing more than what a hand and set of fingers can give.
Twisting at the waist, I’m going to cuss him the fuck out.
Give him every abrasive piece of my mind as he deserves.
Let my tongue morph into a weapon of mass destruction aimed squarely at him.
I barely mutter a single before his hands squeeze the sides of my neck, using it to pin me to the bed like a rabid animal.
Maybe I am. Perhaps the whole fucking problem.
“Pull your shorts down.”
No. Fuck you.
Tilting to the left, I kick my right foot back. If he thinks I’m going to make anything easy, he doesn’t fucking know me at all.
Earlier he was overcome with blazing frustration, and now, now he’s ice cold in a way only men of his caliber are capable of.
You know the ones? Those who’ve lived without an anchor, ones who kill for money and call it duty to their country. Thieves of land, conquerors of people, and destroyers. Dress it up however you want, they’re killers. Takes one to know one.
“G…go to hell.” I slur.
“Plan on it.”
Fed up with my defiance, Elias strips me himself.
Sharply, he yanks my shorts down my legs where they roll and pinch my tender skin.
A few spots are sure to be raw tomorrow.
I’ll hide them from the world as I tuck into the corner of my shower.
There I’ll cower, wondering if tonight actually happened or if it’s an elaborate hoax courtesy of my demons.
Exposed, cool air does nothing to stifle the heat pouring off of me. I’m half naked, ass in the air, pussy drenched in arousal that should not be smeared across my skin.
There’s no warning. No polite rake of his blunt tip between my labia. Just obliteration when he lines himself up and slams inside. Sweet fucking agony lights up my nerves like a control panel. Immediately I clamp around him as he begins to fuck me as if he’s hated me from day one.
Silent, he doesn’t hiss or gasp. He doesn’t praise me, nor show an ounce of satisfaction. Nothing but the sudden stretch of his cock sliding in and out of my cunt, a forever ache settling deep in my belly, and the lewd slap of his balls against me.
Fuck stopping him, I’ll lick my emotional wounds later when I’m spiraling into the abyss. I want him to use me; see that I’m just as much of a husk to him as anyone else. As long as I’m delirious from pleasure by the end, he can hate me.
Each thrust purposefully misses its mark. Changing angles, direction, and momentum after a few snaps of his hips. He takes what he wants rather than giving us what we need. Aggressive thrusts force me forward, more onto my belly, crushing me between him and the mattress.
Between awareness and losing myself completely, I cling to the last fleeting pieces of stubbornness and press my palms to the bed to lift my upper body.
Imagine my confusion when a solid arm hooks through the crooks of mine, trapping them, versus muscling me back down.
He has my arms bent in such a way that I can’t escape—forced to bear every mind shattering thrust.
“L…Lia…as,” I rasp.
Tangled locks of hair shroud my face, fluttering away from my mouth when I huff and moan for him.
Between the wild strands and the dark of my room, I’m blind.
I have zero control. It’s only me and the things I’m too terrified to confront.
Noises that bump in the night, boogeymen that haunt me, and needy whimpers when I’m alone with the memories of Elias’ touch.
A train wreck I can’t seem to look away from.
“What?” he bites.
The strong chest I’ve danced my fingertips across while he sleeps presses against my back seconds later. A weighted blanket made from the man determined to consume me, and I…I...
“Spit it out, Sadie. This not what you wanted?” he mocks me. “Went out of your way to piss me off, and now you can’t take it. Are you saying you’ve had enough? Do you not like how my cock fills up and steals everything you have—everything I own?”
He draws back and slams into me again.
“I’m going to pump you so full of cum, you never forget who the hell you belong to.”
Stars sparkle fuzzily in the corners of my vision. Some of them black like a negative firework display, gobbling down light versus letting it burst in multicolored explosions. Their vicious arms spear me to the bed right here under him, trapping me in a free fall as Elias possesses me.
“How’s the void, Sadie? Fuller now, or are you still fucking empty?”
Empty.
That’s all I am.
Not a daughter, a woman people care for, a friend, foe, or the girl someone remembers at the gym.
I’m a skin suit for demons to control and manipulate.
I’m empty; the only way to live is if I let them in.
I’m weak, a pawn, a mouse they chase through mazes and hunt for sport.
They catch me, pummel me between their canines then spit me out.
They use me—my mind, body, and soul—and when they’re done, when I’m broken, they throw me away.
Why? Because what good am I but to be used?
I was created out of lust, born out of desperation, wanted out of pain, traded because of loneliness, and taken for purpose.
He’s right, I’m vacant. I don’t want to live another day trying to figure out who I am. I want to fall victim to love. To be wanted because I’m broken and have fought to be here instead of a tool others wield for abolition.
The stars are getting larger, torching half my vision now. It's beautiful—silent and promising in its peace. I crave for its tendrils to climb my arms, abrade my skin, and jerk me free.
“S…Sunshine.” Elias’s voice shakes.
A finger hooks under a lock of hair then pins it behind my ear, away from my face. I don’t move, the weight is too much. I’m too far gone. The spokes of oblivion have begun to fade, blending in with the pitiless veil.
Demons cackle blithely in my ear. All three of them are lying across the bed before my foggy eyes, naked in their own right.
Kate’s devouring Liz, Liz is leaning against Naamah, and there I meet her pitch-black eyes.
They claim my soul as she pets her scorched fingers through Liz’s loosened hair.
Watching while Elias decimates me and revels in my downfall.
I hate them.
I hate me.
“R…red.”