Chapter 31
Sex doesn’t appeal to me. Never has. Unless it’s her. For some fuckin’ reason, my demons calm my racing mind when she’s at play. Never been one to cuddle after a fuck either. Not that I’m the type. Fuck that. Can never kick a bitch out fast enough.
How I end up passed out next to her rattles me to my core.
Never slept with anyone. Being touched is something I loathe.
So when I wake up hours later in the darkness to her body curled against my core, I almost fuckin’ lose it.
Her warm body melds into my side as if she was made to be there.
Clearly, she was tired after how hard I worked her.
Sleep eludes me most nights. My only reasoning is my mind finally broke down and stopped fighting.
Our bodies are covered in bruises and blood. Something flips inside of me, and I am overcome with a strange urge to…protect?
I scoff. No. Ruin. Destroy. Break.
All of those things I gain pleasure from.
My eyes skim over her half-naked form. The fire casts a dull glow over her battered body.
Blood coats her precious skin. Looks like a fuckin’ bloodbath.
Sweat, blood, and cum. My favorite combination with her.
Her panties are torn and hardly cover her cunt, a casualty to my brutality.
Her oversize T-shirt hangs off her shoulders, exposing her nipples through the fabric.
A strange emotion bubbles to the surface. Not sure what the fuck it is. I quickly drown it out because, fuck that.
I find myself stroking her dark strands away from her face so I can see her better. A sense of accomplishment fills my insides knowing she’s ruined for any other man. Can’t wait for Pearson to find out his daughter was my cum slut.
Her breathing comes in short waves; she’s on the verge of waking up. Her plush lips are still swollen. For a split second, I imagine her on her knees and those lips wrapped around my cock like an obedient little thing.
Outside, rain slams against the windows. Her balcony door is still ajar, so the sound soothes her back to sleep.
I should leave. No reason to stay. I got my pleasure but denied hers. She needs to earn that shit. It isn’t about her. Her happiness means shit to me.
Something about that thought doesn’t sit right with me.
Why the fuck would I care if she’s happy?
Sure, she’s a prisoner to her father. Not my fuckin’ problem, right?
In a sense, I’m uncloaking the world she’s been hidden away from.
After I break her, she’ll be different. No longer his puppet to control and mold to his selfish desires.
I stroke lazy circles over her collarbone. Her very existence torments me. A strange sense of contentment settled within me, and I drift back to sleep with her in my arms.
***
Hands roam over my stomach and I flinch.
Hate bein’ touched. The scent of her dewy body plays tricks on my mind.
Ain’t no way she’s here with me. Soft, delicate nails drag over my scars.
I jolt from my sleep-induced haze and find her kneeling before me on the end of the bed.
Her hand roves under my baggy T-shirt. I grab her wrist, halting her efforts.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch me. Ever,” I say coldly.
Her green eyes flicker with hurt, and she sheds a stray tear. That strange fuckin’ feeling pushes forward, and I don’t like it. Something I’ve never felt before. Tears make me hard. Tears fulfill me. So what the fuck?
“Get the fuck off of me,” my dark timbre rattles slower. She scoots back, and I release my tight hold on her wrist. Her feet get tangled in the silk sheets as she shies away.
“You stayed,” she says, her voice monotone. She doesn’t know how to take me.
Fuck I don’t even know how to take myself either.
She shimmies off the bed and moves slowly, limping. She’s sore. A sense of pride fills me.
“Fell asleep. Doesn’t mean shit,” I grit, my voice detached. Best not to read into it, ’cause it doesn’t mean shit.
She sucks her bottom lip and steps into a gray pair of sweatpants. She is careful with the marks I left on her body. Wonder how she’s gonna hide it from Pearson. God, I hope that asshole sees it. Her tangled dark hair hangs loosely over her shoulders, and I openly eye fuck her.
She’s silent for a moment. I just stay splayed on her queen bed like I own it.
I tuck my hands behind my head, and my eyes drag lazily over her form.
She’s hypnotic and hypnotizing in some fucked-up way.
Might be the way I’ve corrupted her. My sin and her godliness fits in some way I don't understand. My mind is silent, and it’s a strange sensation.
No voices. No wild thoughts. Just raw desire and sanity. I’ve never had sanity.
“Why are you here, Zain?”
Her question takes me off guard.
To ruin you. To steal your innocence. Revenge.
Vengeance. All of those things. Can’t tell her that though.
“Had to remind you who you belong to,” I say simply with a hollow tone.
The lie leaves a metallic taste in my mouth.
She tilts her head. Her hands find her hips.
Curiosity glints in her eyes, reflecting in the firelight.
“No. You feel something, don’t you?” she says, like she has any fuckin’ clue about what goes on my head.
I sit up and cross the room in record speed.
I am on her in an instant. My words are venomous and my expression equally measured.
“You don’t know shit. You’re a fun fuck.
A bitch I want complete submission from. Nothin’ more.”
I watch her throat bob. Her eyes flash with fear. Fuck, there it is. My cock jumps.
She ignores the insults, letting it roll off her. “I see the way you watch me. I see the scars. You’re angry. Why?” Her eyes narrow, as if she’s got me all figured out.
I’m seething. No—fuckin’ furious. Instead of blowing my top, I laugh. A maniacal, deranged mirthless laugh.
“Think you got me all figured out, huh?” I scoff, gripping her chin. I see the dancing flame of the fire in her eyes.
Her words are small and meek. “If you let me in, I can—”
My patience boils over. I go red faced and scream at her, “Cut the shit, Vesper! You women are addicted to broken, fucked-up motherfuckers. Thinkin’ you can fix us.
Stupid as fuck. You need to shut your pretty mouth and only open it if my cock is in your mouth.
You’re nothin’ but a hole to fuck. A useless used slut—”
Slap.
A copper tang fills my mouth. My tongue runs along my teeth, tasting blood. I chuckle darkly. She looks murderous.
I turn slowly, calculated. “I’ll let that slide this once.
There won’t be a second time,” I warn. My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I let out a frustrated growl and yank it from my jeans.
I silence it once I see my father’s name flickering across the screen.
I turn my attention back to her. Her shirt hangs over her shoulders, and I’m plagued with dirty thoughts of her.
I curse internally before pushing past her.
She spins. “Where are you going?” she asks softly, as if she didn’t just slap me. She’s hooked.
“In the shadows where I dwell.” And then I climb back over her balcony into the pouring rain. If only it could wash away my insanity.