25. Drystan
Chapter Twenty-Five
DRYSTAN
Isit at the kitchen table, phone in hand, watching the camera feed as she moves through the bedroom.
She dresses slowly, pulling on the soft black leggings and shirt I left for her, but her eyes keep darting to the door, to the windows, to every possible exit.
She is at war with herself. Part of her still yearns to run, to fight, perhaps even to kill me if she could.
But another part, the darker, more beautiful part, wants to stay.
Wants to surrender to the very monster who has claimed her.
Instead of coming downstairs, she turns away from the door, lifts the covers, and slips back into bed.
I release a slow breath, push to my feet, and prepare food for her.
I make a simple sandwich with fresh bread, boiled egg, crisp lettuce, and mayonnaise, exactly how she prefers it, then pour a glass of cold milk and arrange everything on a tray.
When I enter the bedroom, I set the tray quietly on the nightstand.
“You need to eat, Briar,” I say, my voice low with warning.
She hums softly from beneath the covers but does not move.
Fine. For now, I will let her hide.
I walk down the corridor to my office, leaving the door half open.
The monitors flicker to life as I enter.
One screen shows the front gate, another the hallway leading here, and the largest displays her curled form beneath the blankets.
The secondary set of feeds shows her old apartment, still quiet, untouched.
I open my computer and begin to dig.
Archibald Linden. Let us see what rot hides in your closet.
On the surface there is nothing, as expected.
He works for a finance firm now. Once owned his own company, but declared bankruptcy six years ago.
He had been drowning in debt when he forced Briar out of her dorm and into that cheap studio.
He had been on the verge of losing the family house to the IRS.
The bastard had even collected half of his wife’s life insurance.
But then, barely a year later, the money appeared again.
I pull up the bank statements and find it, a single massive transfer of two million dollars, routed not to his main account but to one in the Bahamas.
Paid by a shell company that dissolved immediately afterward. The dates line up too perfectly.
No.
He wouldn’t.
Did that worthless piece of shit sell his own daughter?
“Is that my apartment?”
Her voice cuts through the silence from the doorway. I do not turn around.
“Yes,” I answer calmly, closing the most damning tabs with a few clicks.
“Oh my God.” She steps closer. “Is that… my shower?”
I smirk. “You are such a pervert.”
The words carry both fury and reluctant amusement.
“Just for you,” I reply, finally looking up at her.
She tries to leave, but I catch her wrist gently yet firmly. “Briar. What happened that night…” I keep my voice steady even as rage simmers beneath my skin. “It was around October 6th, wasn’t it?”
She stops pulling away and stares at me, her eyes already glistening with fresh tears. “How did you know?”
Motherfucker.
I draw in a slow, controlled breath, forcing the volcanic anger back down. “Briar… I need to know. Were you a virgin?”
Her face drains of color, then floods with deep red. Panic floods her eyes.
The truth hits me like a blade between the ribs.
I am going to kill her father. I am going to make him scream for hours. I am going to carve out every ounce of pain he allowed her to suffer and return it tenfold.
“Briar…” I stand and pull her into my chest. She does not fight me. Instead she leans in, her warm tears soaking through my shirt as quiet sobs shake her small frame.
“How did you know?” she forces out, the words muffled against me.
“It doesn’t matter,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. My arms tighten around her protectively, possessively. “I’m sorry.”
She chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against my chest, her body still trembling in my arms. “There is a lot you have to apologize for, Drystan… but what happened that night isn’t one of them.”
“It is,” I murmur, my voice rough. “I should have been there. I was always there until they locked me away—”
She shifts, tilting her head all the way back to look up at me. Her blue eyes gleam with something darker now, something almost vengeful. Fresh tears cling to her lashes, and a delicate blush stains her cheeks. The sight makes my chest tighten with violent possession.
“I wish you had been there,” Her voice colder, angrier. “I wish you would’ve killed them.”
“Then let me kill them now.”
Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.
Her small hand slides from my chest down to my waist, slipping beneath the waistband of my sweats.
The moment her fingers wrap around my cock, I harden instantly, blood rushing hot and heavy.
My muscles coil tight. My heart slams against my ribs like a war drum.
“I still want to leave—” she breathes, even as she strokes me slowly, her grip perfect and maddening. “But who else will fuck me the way you do?”
A dark groan escapes me. “No one, my love. No one ever will.”
I let my hands fall to my sides, barely restraining myself. “On your knees.”
There is a spark of mischief in her tear-filled eyes, but she obeys.
She sinks slowly to her knees before me, her black hair cascading over one shoulder, her hard nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric of her shirt.
The sight of her like this, on her knees, flushed, tear-streaked, and still so beautifully broken, nearly undoes me.
“Pull my cock out,” I order, voice low and strained.
She does, her fingers trembling slightly as she frees me. Her eyes widen as she takes in every piercing.
“Now suck.”
Her gaze flicks up to mine, then back to my cock.
She leans forward, pink tongue slipping out to lick the bead of precum from the tip with agonizing slowness.
A violent shiver races down my spine straight to my balls.
This is the first time her mouth has ever touched me.
Six years of dreaming, of stroking myself to the thought of her lips wrapped around me, and now it is finally happening.
She parts her lips and takes me in. The wet heat of her mouth envelops the head of my cock, and a guttural sound rips from my throat. “Watch your teeth on the piercings,” I growl, threading my fingers through her hair.
She nods obediently and begins to move, sucking with a rhythm that makes my vision blur. Her tongue swirls around the sensitive metal, teasing each barbell with devastating curiosity. I watch, transfixed, as her cheeks hollow and her throat works around my thickness.
“Deeper,” I command, tightening my grip on her hair and thrusting forward.
She gags softly as I hit the back of her throat, but she breathes through her nose and takes me further.
The sight of her throat bulging slightly with the outline of my cock nearly makes me come on the spot.
Her hand moves up, cupping my balls, nails digging in with just enough sting to send sparks of pleasure-pain shooting through me.
“Fuck, Briar…” I pant, losing control. I fuck her mouth harder, hips snapping forward with growing aggression. “This mouth was made for me. Six years I waited to feel it. Six years imagining these pretty lips stretched around my cock while you cried and swallowed every drop.”
She moans around me, the vibration traveling straight through my shaft. My balls tighten in her hand. The pleasure builds fast and brutal.
“I’m going to come,” I rasp, voice wrecked. “And you’re going to swallow every fucking drop like the good girl you are.”
Both of my hands fist tightly in her hair as I thrust deeper, chasing release.
With a savage groan that echoes through the room, I bury myself as far as she can take me and come hard, pulsing violently down her throat.
Her swallowing movements milk me through every wave, drawing out the pleasure until my vision spots.
I hold her there for a long moment, savoring the sight of her tear-streaked face and swollen lips wrapped around me, before finally pulling back.
“I thought you said you needed time to think about us,” I murmur, voice low and rough. Her spit and my cum glisten on her swollen lips and drip slowly down her chin. The sight is obscene and perfect.
She smiles—a real, wicked little smile—and licks her lips slowly, savoring me. “I am thinking. Doesn’t mean I can’t have fun while I do it.”
A dark growl builds in my chest. “You want fun, Briar?”
I grab her by the waist and spin her around, bending her over the console beneath the wall of monitors. With a few clicks, every screen flares to life again, playing footage of her touching herself in her old bedroom—fingers between her thighs, soft moans filling the office. She gasps sharply.
“Spread your legs,” I order, yanking her leggings and panties down in one brutal motion.
She obeys, trembling, her eyes locked on the screens.
I reach between her thighs and circle her swollen clit with slow, deliberate strokes. Her hips jerk. The feed changes—now showing her with Luke. She whimpers.
“No—”
I press her harder against the desk, pinning her there. “Watch,” I growl against her ear as I thrust two thick fingers deep into her soaked cunt. “See how that worthless bastard treated what belongs to me.”
She rises onto her toes, a broken moan spilling from her lips as I curl my fingers and stroke that spot inside her mercilessly. On the screen, Luke pushes her against the wall, selfish and rushed.
I add a third finger, stretching her. “The difference is this: I don’t stop because I want to make you come until you forget your own name. He didn’t stop because he only cared about spilling his own pathetic cum.”
I sink my teeth into the side of her neck, biting hard enough to mark. Her back arches violently as she cries out, louder, wetter. I fuck her harder with my fingers, the obscene wet sounds mixing with the video.
“It’s the same—” she forces out, voice shaking.