Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(89)

With a nudge of his nose, he brushed my hair to one side. His mouth found my neck, and then he was moving again. Slowly at first, the long slide of him in and out of my body forced me to bury my face into the mattress and stifle my cries as pleasure rippled through me. Then faster and faster, his hips worked a breathtaking, heart-pounding pace between my thighs, whipping my entire body into nothing more than a frenzy of need.

Quivering, shaking like a leaf beneath him, I wanted to sob, to scream out in ecstasy. Instead, I bit down on the mattress and let my body scream for me.

My body screamed and screamed until its voice was hoarse, until its insides had been wrung dry, not a drop of moisture remaining.

A little piece of me died that afternoon—the part of me that still cowered in fear at the sight of a fist; the part of me that had wanted to leave this world, too scared and too selfish to realize what I was leaving behind; the part of me that had been forever afraid, my fear making me unwilling to see what was still here, the life that was still right here, even in the midst of all this death. It was gone now, having been whisked away into the ether while my body screamed itself raw in the face of indescribable joy and unimaginable pleasure.

And then I drifted off to sleep, the most peaceful sleep I’d had in the past four years, while held safely within the arms of a good man. A man who loved me.

? ? ?

Evelyn

Gripping my thighs, E angled himself against me, pressing the hard tip of himself just inside my entrance. Releasing my legs, he wrapped his hands around my waist, his fingertips biting angrily into my skin, his grip holding me firmly in place. Then his eyes lifted and met mine, a crude sneer twisted his lips, and with a loud grunt, he thrust himself inside me.

I cried out in pain from the sheer size and savageness of him, attempting to pull away from him until his hand slapped down over my mouth. His weight crushed me, stifling my cries and thwarting my movements.

With one hand clasped firmly over my mouth, the other holding tight to my waist, he slammed into me again and again. It didn’t matter how much I tried to buck and twist against him, he simply controlled my thrashing using his own body, keeping me pinned in place no matter what I attempted. In all my life, I had never been f*cked like this. He was like a man possessed, as if he was trying to internally brand me with his cock, and make me his forever. The entire time his eyes never left mine, his cruel hard stare burning into me.

Grunting, E flipped me over, pressing his chest against my back as he once again drove himself deep between my thighs. His teeth found my shoulder, biting down, causing me to nearly scream out in pain. Instead, I bit down on the pillow beneath me, knowing there was no point in crying anymore. Everything he did, he was doing it to hurt me. He liked to know that he was in control, that my body was his to use as he pleased.

But the fault was mine; I’d known exactly what I was getting myself involved in. I had been warned by both him and Dori, and yet I had still agreed. The price I’d set—Leisel and Alex’s freedom—was too important not to.

But the pain he was causing me, it was more than just physical. With every brutal thrust, with every careless grab and twist of my skin, every biting kiss, and every cry I’d uttered that he’d answered with a grin, he was hurting me in places he shouldn’t have been able to reach. He was hurting me straight through to my soul.

Desperate for an escape, I cast about in my mind and remembered the conversation I’d had with Leisel.

“Where do you go?” I had asked. “When you zone out?”

“To the past,” she’d said simply. “I go back to the past.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, tears leaking from beneath my lids, I did as Leisel would. I went back to the past. I thought of Shawn, of his ruggedly handsome features, the way he’d always tickled me before sex, tickling me until I was laughing and begging him to stop, and then he would kiss me. And his kisses…his kisses had been everything.

And I thought of Jami. His sweet, sinful smile, his skillful hands tearing the pleasure from my drenched and willing body, the beautiful way we’d always moved in sync, skin against skin. It was Jami I was thinking of as E continued to slam his body into mine.

“Wildcat!” E hissed angrily. “Make some damn noise!” Slapping his hand hard across my backside, my body jumped in answer, but I refused to cry out. I refused to allow this man the satisfaction of hearing any more of my pain.

Pulling himself free of me, he flipped me onto my back, and again he buried himself deep inside me. Gripping my jaw, he forced me to look at him once more. “Cry for me, Wildcat,” he demanded, glaring down at me.

Looking past him, I focused on nothing, my mind retreating once again to the past. To Jami, and then it was only Jami I saw, only Jami that I felt.

“You stupid whore,” E sneered. “You’re just a stupid whore no one wants.”

Knowing he was only trying to get a rise out of me, that he got off on this, I choked out a bitter laugh. “I’m not a whore,” I said, “and I have plenty of people who love me.”

And I did. My parents had loved me. Shawn had loved me, Leisel and Thomas had loved me. And Jami, maybe even he had loved me. They were the only ones who mattered, whose opinions of me mattered. Not this man; he didn’t matter. He never would.

Cursing, E grabbed a handful of my hair and fisted it tightly. Gripping me like a rider would a horse’s reins, he resumed pumping his body into mine. Faster, harder, more painful and angry than before.