Chapter 30 - Sunshine
Chapter thirty
What. The. Fuck.
No, I’m done. Sasha can fucking tell Blanche for all I care. I’ll leave and never look back. Lawrence can go to hell, the Sinclairs can go to hell, and Sasha Taranov can go. To. Hell.
They can keep their millions too. I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with this godforsaken city any more.
I suppose I should consider myself lucky Sasha untied me this time so I can get the fuck out of here.
Stepping over my pile of clothes that are in shreds on the floor, I grab a blanket and practically run out of the filming room, avoiding the dead bodies on my way.
I don’t know where Sasha went, but I’m glad he’s gone.
How dare he blame me for their deaths after forcing me to watch that?
Letting someone else fuck me is his own prerogative, but to force me to watch another woman wrap her mouth around him? Well, fuck him.
God, why are there tears in my eyes right now? Why should I care where he puts his dick? He’s not mine. Not anymore anyway.
It’s storming outside like it does almost every afternoon, but it doesn’t stop me.
I run from Blanche’s house to my cottage and welcome the rain.
Maybe it will wash away the sorrow that seems to have permanently taken root in my heart.
A heart that only two months ago was so full of joy and light now seems broken into too many pieces to ever fully repair.
The cottage door swinging open in the wind breaks me from my pity party.
I’ve lived as a single woman for too many years, and I may be optimistic by nature, but I never leave my door unlocked.
I slow my jog and carefully walk into the living room.
The floor is mostly dry, so either the roof over the patio has kept away any rainwater or the door has been recently opened.
I barely have time to consider who might have broken in before I’m being picked up by my neck and slammed against the wall.
Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath, because there’s no telling when I’ll be able to again.
I don’t even have to look to know whose hand is wrapped around my throat.
I know that touch. I know that smell. I can feel his breath inching closer to my skin, causing chills to erupt across my body.
This all-consuming presence is undeniably Sasha.
At last, he makes contact, nuzzling his head in the crook of my neck, and I can’t help the way my head falls back.
“What the fuck did you do to me, Lucy?” He grunts. “Why can’t I get you out of my goddamn head?”
With all my might, I open my eyes and am met with the piercing gaze of my Sasha. “I didn’t do anything…”
“Bullshit!” His grip on my neck tightens, cutting off my ability to speak. “You’ve done this to me! How dare you lie to me, use me, make a fool out of me! You knew how hard it was for me to let people in!”
I grab at my throat and scratch at his hand until he lets up enough for me to take in a shallow breath. “What are you even talking about? I loved you! You were the best part of my life! The best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you just left!”
His chest heaves with every heavy breath as he stares into my eyes.
“I’ve never killed a woman before. Did you know that?
That woman tonight? She’s the first one.
And it’s your fault. You are the reason she’s dead.
And do you know why? Because apparently, I can’t stand to let another human alive touch either one of us.
How is that going to work? Huh? Because I can’t stand to be with you, Lucy, but apparently, I can’t stand to be with anyone else. ”
Tears fall down my face at his accusation.
How dare he blame me for killing that woman, especially after making me watch her?
I wanted to…well, I wanted to fucking kill her.
But that was just in the moment. I wouldn’t have ever actually hurt anyone and especially never killed someone. God, he’s fucking dense.
“Fuck you,” I breathe out, slapping him with all the pathetic strength I can muster.
The force is enough to turn his head slightly, and instead of snapping his attention back to me, he holds it there.
Fuck, I’m going to be in so much trouble.
I know I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have roused him to more anger than he already has.
I’ve personally witnessed him murder three people like it was nothing, so there’s no telling how many kills he has.
Before I can have a full-on panic attack, he slowly turns his gaze back to mine, a smirk growing on his face.
He’s right there, so close our mouths are almost touching.
It wouldn’t take much, and I would have his lips on me again.
From the way he’s looking at me, it’s clear that a demon still lurks in the shadow of his eyes…
but there’s more of my Sasha than I’ve seen in weeks.
Fuck, he’s intoxicating. And standing this close, he’s everything.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I bridge the gap between us, hoping with everything I have that he’ll accept this kiss. That he’ll return it. That maybe for just this moment, he could be mine again.
He does.
He immediately opens for me, deepening our connection with every swipe of his tongue.
With one hand still wrapped around my neck, he uses the other to grab my ass and lift me, slamming me back against the wall so hard the paintings rattle.
My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and with my blanket long gone by now, I’m completely bare in his arms. He’s only wearing pants, and everywhere his skin touches mine feels like needles sending electricity shooting through every part of me.
“Please.” It’s barely audible, but he must hear it.
Removing his hand from my throat, he makes quick work of undoing his pants.
The sound of his belt unfastening and his zipper sliding down bring a rush of arousal to my core.
I know what’s coming next, and I’ve been dreaming of his thick cock for weeks.
He guides himself to my opening before returning his hand to my neck, holding my jaw in place so that I can’t look anywhere but at him.
As if I would ever want to look anywhere but his devastating face.
He gives me no warning, forcing himself all the way inside me with one long thrust. The stretch that comes along with Sasha’s dick is intoxicating.
No matter how many times I’ve had him, I always have to adjust. But I welcome the mix of pain that comes along every time he sinks into me.
The way he rips me apart just to mold me to fit him. And I’ve felt so empty without it.
My Sasha would usually give me a moment to get used to him, but this Sasha does not.
He immediately begins rutting me into the wall, fucking me harder than I’ve ever had him before.
I can’t help but claw at his back, his shoulders.
His neck, his arms, anywhere I can reach.
It’s my only tether to this world as he fucks me into what feels like heaven. Or maybe hell.
He hasn’t broken eye contact the whole time, and I’ve watched the heat in his eyes rise.
I’ve watched them darken into that man I hardly recognize anymore.
With a growl, he pulls out of me and flips me around, pushing my face into the wall and pulling my ass back against him.
He quickly replaces his dick, burying it deep inside me yet again before fucking me like the possessed man he is.
Fuck, it hurts. This angle allows him to hit deeper, reaching my cervix with every thrust, and without his gaze, it’s almost too much.
I try reaching back to grab him, and I’m not sure why.
Maybe for a shred of connection as he ruins me?
It doesn’t matter either way. He immediately neutralizes my arms, pulling them behind my back and holding them there.
I feel the heat of his body as he leans in over me, giving me a momentary reprieve from his assault.
“You don’t get to touch me, is that clear?
I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not your lover.
I’m your worst fucking nightmare. And I’m going to ruin you exactly how you ruined me.
There’s nowhere on this planet you can go where I won’t find you and your tight little cunt.
There will never be another day when your pussy or your ass doesn’t ache from where I’ve ripped you open.
It may take weeks to heal, but I’ll always find you.
And I’ll fucking destroy you every single time. Do I make myself clear, Sunshine?”
I can't move, let alone nod, but he wasn’t looking for an answer.
He continues doing just what he threatened, tearing me apart from the inside out.
There isn’t a bit of pleasure in the way he’s fucking me, but my traitorous body doesn’t care.
I grow wetter around him, relishing the way he abuses my battered channel.
Finally, when I think I’m literally about to die, he stills deep inside me, his body flush against mine.
His cock pulses against my walls as jets of cum paint them.
But instead of being relieved that he’s finished, I’m hit with an overwhelming sadness.
I don’t want him to be done. He talked about doing it again, but what if that was all words?
What if this is the last time I’ll have him dripping down my thighs the next morning?
What if this is the last time I’ll struggle to walk because of how sore I am?
I’ll gladly take the pain of him breaking me as long as I get to have him.
Before I can voice my concern or even turn around, he’s gone without so much as a goodbye. He makes his way to his car and drives away, and suddenly, the weight of everything hits me at once. I have to get out of here.