16
Tears streak down Clara's face. I know that hazed look.
She buries her skeletons into her depths like a hidden secret.
She is a haunted beauty in sublime ruin; she's laceratingly fragile.
Val's hands on her body sends a jolt of frenzied destruction through my system.
I hate the way he looks at her. My fists clench at my sides.
If she wants to fill their voracious appetites, I shouldn't give a fuck, but I fucking do.
I refuse to relinquish her. I'm close to the edge of insanity.
Shit, I'm already there. Before I can second guess myself, I spring forward from my seat.
Nyla and the other nameless bitch fall to the floor in a drug induced heap.
I don't give a shit. Never do. I act now, think later.
My mantra. Zain tells me it's impulsive and reckless. Alcohol and weed don't help my cause.
I bust Val straight in the teeth. He falls backward, blood flying from his lip.
My knuckles instantly ache, but the stinging pain is welcome.
The music stops. All eyes fall on me. “What the fuck?!”
He shoves my chest, but I don't budge. Perks of being a big motherfucker.
Silas keeps to himself. Smart. Crossing me wouldn't be wise.
“She doesn't want your filthy hands on her, man. Who said you could talk to her?! She's drunk off her ass. Did you give her pills?”
I don’t know why I accuse him or why I give a shit.
I know he did. I do the same shit without a single ounce of remorse.
It's what we do. Drugs and sex. No one says shit to us Elites.
“Goddamn, bro. If you wanted to share all you had to do was ask!” he shouts, raising his hands in defense. Blood coats his white shirt and dark jeans. He wipes the blood on his shirt sleeve.
Clara scoots backward, away from the shitstorm.
Her body sways. Her chunky heels scrape along the planked, wooden floor.
I snatch her arm in a bruising hold and wrench her next to me.
She doesn't react. She's used to being handled like a toy.
I recognize the vacancy in her eyes. Just like that night.
Past.
I clutch the leather in my palm. I snap it against my wrist as a reminder of its bite.
Her lips part. If she wants to say something, she doesn't.
The fear is prevalent in her eyes. With her spread open before me, I let my darkest impulses unleash.
I snap the whip making it crack against the air. She flinches.
“Are you a crier?” I ask. She doesn't reply.
Her pupils are blown out. It's a good chance she isn't even coherent enough to know what the hell is happening. Works for me. Passed out is ideal, but I can handle silent and comatose.
I raise the whip and lash her inner thigh. She sucks in a breath but otherwise keeps quiet. Goosebumps form on her skin.
Curiosity gets the best of me. I want to see how far I can push her until she wakes up from the drugged stupor.
My dick strains in my jeans. I snap the soft leather against her thigh again.
She chokes on a cry, swallowing it. A stray tear falls down her cheek.
She moves her head to the side, hiding from me. This is open warfare, baby.
“Nah, eyes on me. Let me see those salty tears.”
Her hands tremble against the sheets. Slowly, she turns her head back to me. I wipe the sweat from my brow and strike her again, this time drawing blood. She swallows another cry. The tears bead faster down her cheek. This time it's definitely leaving lacerating welts.
Unable to stop myself, I use my free hand to wrestle my cock free from the confines of my jeans.
It springs free from the zipper. It points straight to her, wanting to bury deep within her shattered soul.
I fist it, stroking it, rubbing my thumb under the shaft and head.
She still doesn't react. Her eyes never leave mine and Goddamn. What a tempting little siren.
I increase the pain level for her, striking her harder.
Blood coats her inner thighs, splattering on her cunt and stomach.
My cockhead weeps for her. I stroke the head.
My body jerks forward and low rumbles leave my throat.
I flog her repeatedly, over and over again waiting for the pleading cries.
They never come. It doesn't take me long to find that sweet release.
“You're such a fractured beauty. I smell your fear in the air, baby. Let it overtake you,” I rasp.
I caress the shaft until come spills from the head. It falls to the carpet in front of me, drenching it.
I curse under my breath. That's been the best orgasm I've ever had. Addicting. I have an appetite for this one.