Page 12 of Liberated By Sin
In and out.
“Oh, fuck, sweetheart…look at you. That’s the prettiest fucking shade of red I’ve ever seen.”
Satin sheets muffled my sobs as he continued his assault.
His fists in my hair, blood-coated handprints smeared on my back and ass, and all over the mattress.
That sick, sorry bastard. He was so fucking proud.
My body wasn’t his to take, to violate, and desecrate. I didn’t belong to him.
I was yours, Ezra. But you left me here.
The world faded to black over and over, day after day. And every time I awoke, my soul dimmed a little more when a different set of eyes and a new face appeared above me until I couldn’t see them anymore—until they all blurred into the same monster.
5
A loud, drawn-out grunt resonated in my ear as he pumped the last of himself inside me. His breath was vile and hot on my neck. I closed my eyes, praying he’d leave without a word or extra favors, but when had luck ever been on my side? My prayers had long drowned in an endless sea of tears and despair.
“Just give me five minutes, sweetheart, and I’ll come back for this,” he said, pushing his thumb against the rim of muscles in my ass.
I shuddered at the indescribable pain that awaited. It wouldn’t be the first time, but Mr. H was a fucking sadist. He enjoyed tears, pain, and blood. The night he took my virginity, he’d made sure I bled far more than I was supposed to and proudly wore what he stole like war paint.
There were others, of course, but he was consistent, always coming back for more. I begged for the day he’d take it all and end me.
“I had some meetings scheduled tonight and a three-day business trip over the weekend,” he said casually, slicking back his hair in the mirror. “But it turns out, we had last-minute cancellations.Andsincethe wife and kids are out of town, you got me for the next four days.” Slamming the comb on the dresser, he turned around, his wicked grin wide and smug as he ran his eyes over the length of my naked body.
Four days.
Surviving twenty-four hours with this man was a feat in itself.
But four days…
It’s what you want. Let her die.
“I have some fun planned for us, sweet girl.” Mr. H dragged his hand along my inner thigh. “Are you excited?”
He’d never demanded I speak before, so I didn’t see a reason to reply. It wasn’t until he flipped me over, face inches from mine, and three fingers buried so painfully inside me that I realized his twisted game had been upgraded.
“Y-yes,” I breathed.
His eyes were light green with gold specks, surrounded by pale lashes. He reminded me a lot of Ronan in the way he used humor to convey his depraved nature.
Ronan.
I hadn’t thought of that name in so long.
Then again, I hadn’t thought of much of what my life had been like.
Because not thinking, not feeling, was safer.
My blood suddenly felt a little warmer and moved a little faster. A flush of anger rose, heating my cheeks hotter every time Mr. H’s fingers slid back and forth. When he pinched my cheeks and forced me to watch him suck said intrusive fingers clean, I decided it was time for him to die. No one would come looking if he were slated to spend the next four days with me.
Play the part.
“My wrists. Just for a little?”
I followed his gaze to where my hands were bound. The cuffs were damn near a part of me now, buried into raw skin. If Mr. H didn’t kill me soon, infection would.