Page 8 of Brutal
My heart freezes. “Okay,” I say carefully. I turn around so I’m facing him, and the water hits my back. He’s several inches taller than me, and it means I need to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “What makes something interesting for you? How do I keep you entertained, if I don’t know anything about you?”
“That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said since I met you, I think,” he says, meeting my eyes. There’s a challenging smirk on his lips. “I guess you’ll just have to figure it out. It’s your life on the line here, not mine.”
I press my lips together as I think about how to respond. “Okay. So how do you want to be entertained right now? You want me to suck you off? You want me to spread my legs so you can fuck me against the shower wall? Am I supposed to cry and beg, or do you want somebody who fights back?”
Brutal laughs at me. “I guess I want somebody who thinks she’s above it all.” He reaches up and places his hand on my throat, pressing his thumb down hard. “Because I noticed, all right. You were pretending to be dead to it all, but then you bit him. Not so inured after all.”
My eyes widen as the pressure increases. I try to take a step back, but I hit the shower wall and he only looms closer.
He pins me against it with ease, his large body pressing against me hard enough for me to feel his erection against my pelvis. I whimper, but the sound is barely audible above the pouring water. As he puts more pressure on my throat, I reach out, clawing at his arms. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Why don’t we try again?” Brutal says with a dark smile. “Tell me all about yourself. Did you have a boyfriend before all this? What were you doing, before you got pulled into that pit?”
He stops pressing quite so hard against my throat, and I gasp in a breath of air. I can feel the burn of tears in my eyes, but they’re lost to the water spraying into my face. “No, I didn’t have a boyfriend,” I say, desperate to avoid being denied the ability to breathe again. “And I was… I was in college. I had a good life.”
A good life I’m not sure I’d appreciated as much as I should have.
Brutal laughs. “College! Nice. I liked college. The sorority girls were…” He brushes his thumb over my lip. “Well, they were always up to being adventurous.”
This is better than being fucked by a bunch of random men, I tell myself. A little conversation is fine, even though I don’t want to tell him a damn thing about myself. “I wasn’t in that kind of sorority,” I inform him loftily. “I’m not a party girl.”
“Oh?” Brutal pushes his thumb past my lips. “That’s too bad. I love parties. I think we can make a party girl out of you yet.” He pulls his thumb out and rubs my chin with it.
Nausea rises within me, and it’s all I can do not to throw up when I think of just what kind of parties he probably goes to. “What, you go to college parties like the pathetic waste of flesh you are?” I find myself biting out.
He laughs again, but instead of answering, he leans down to kiss me. I gasp and remember to hold still, to not do anything that could backfire on me.
It’s a near thing though, especially when he grabs my ass to pull me closer. His cock rubs insistently against my body.
I panic, and I bite down on his lip in what should’ve been a warning but is actually utterly stupid. I want to apologize, but I hate that he’s trying to kiss me, that he’s trying to turn this into something it’s not meant to be.
He groans and only kisses me harder. “Careful,” he whispers when he finally pulls away. “I like a little bit of sass. Just enough to keep it interesting. Not so much that I’m wondering if I should return you for a different model after all.”
“Maybe I want to be returned. Maybe I don’t want to be here with you like this,” I say even though this is better—so far—than being chained to a bed and fucked over and over again until I’m wishing for the end to come.
“Mimi, Mimi, Mimi,” Brutal chides. “If I returned you, Pavone would do far, far worse to you than before. He’d think you’re just broken product, and I promise you, if you thought what he was doing to you was bad before, you have no idea what he’s capable of.”
The worst part is that I don’t doubt him. Brutal might be end up being bad, but he’s the better of two evils.
He smiles at me. “I think we’ve stalled enough. Why don’t you turn around and press your hands flat on the wall. I’m going to fuck that cute little hole of yours. I should definitely get my dick wet today, after all this trouble.” He glances up at the showerhead. “Wet with cunt, not just water.”
“My cunt isn’t wet,” I mutter, and something occurs to me. “You know the guys don’t always use condoms, right? I could have something serious.” I just have to hope that deters him enough to get me out of this right here and now.
Something flickers across his expression, and I can see that I might’ve gotten through to him. My hopes are dashed when he grins again, though. “Yeah, so, Elena already checked for that. She knew I wasn’t gonna buy some diseased cunt.”
There goes that idea.
I turn around to face the wall, resigned to all of this. The shower is new, but other than that, this is really the same as every other day for the past few months.
Brutal squeezes my ass cheeks, then spreads them. “Hmm. Maybe instead of cunt, I should go for ass?”
I freeze, shaking my head quickly. “N-no, please,” I say, swallowing hard. “I’ll… I’m going to behave, okay? And maybe I’ll get wet for you. I’m sure you… know how to use your cock really well.” God, those words hurt to say.
“But you just said I don’t know what’s in there.” He lets go and reaches to one of the shower gel dispensers suspended on the shower wall.
I watch, realizing that it’s not shower gel he pumps out. That’s lube.
He catches my gaze and smiles. “It pays to be prepared. You never know when you want to fuck somebody in the shower.”