From the back, I reach forward, curling my fists around the sides of her throat. The belt, still there, is pinned beneath my palms. I squeeze, lifting her up and using my hold on her neck to yank her down onto my cock.
I lift her up, higher and higher, pinning her naked, bruised form between me and the footboard of the bed. Her legs kick uselessly against the fronts of my calves, her feet leaving the floor. Gravity drags her down farther, sinking her on my cock until the only thing holding her aloft are my hands wrapped around her throat and my dick deep in her ass.
I jerk as my orgasm surges forward. My teeth dig into her shoulder, biting down hard. Her body clenches around me as I spill my seed. Jet after jet of cum washes into her asshole. My fingers constrict harder and I can feel the air leaving her, no more entering. She’s on the cusp. If I were to look into her eyes, I know they’d be rolling back into her head.
I could stop here. Let her go. Or… I could do what would make me feel better. If I can’t have her, if she won’t let me have her—then no one should be allowed to.
If I kill her, then she can stay in my memories as the perfect girl. Her struggles renew, but only briefly. We’re too far gone, her and I. A few more seconds and this will all be over. She’ll be gone and maybe I won’t hurt so bad anymore.
It’s the cruelest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve never even treated paid whores like this. I wouldn’t have considered it, but her—the woman I love? The woman who betrayed my brothers and me?
She deserves this kind of treatment.
She forgot that being mine means more than mine to protect. She might have left, but she’s still mine in the end. Now, she’s just mine to destroy.
Just as I was hers… and she destroyed me.
39
JULIET
The room is dark when I wake. The absence of light as night steals into the bedroom that feels nothing like mine makes it hard to lift my eyelids. My body feels as if I’ve been hit by a Mack truck. My limbs are so sore that they refuse to move initially. I’m surprised I’m still alive.
My eyes flutter, lashes tickling my cheeks, and the room comes into hazy focus. I’m on the bed at Morpheus’ house, cold air rolling over my naked flesh. A shadow in the shape of a man sits on a chair nearby, watching me.
I stiffen and then immediately regret it as my body screams in protest. When a moan makes its way up my throat, the pain intensifies. Any sound that tries to break free feels like swallowing shards of glass. My eyes blur again as I take stock of the rest of me.
I’m no longer bound, but my wrists are sore as are my shoulders. One of my shoulders, however, aches more than the other.
With gently probing fingers, I reach up and feel around the skin. There’s a wound on the left side in the shape of a crescent, but along it are ridges. Teeth marks, I realize.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you.” The quiet announcement breaks the silence of the room.
My gaze shifts to where Lex sits, bent over, his elbows propped on his knees and his chin resting on his steepled fingers. His eyes remain fixed on me. Sitting up is like lifting boulders from my body. A Sisyphean task of painful proportions.
“Why didn’t you kill me then?” Is that my voice? Raw, raspy, and at my loudest—a whisper that barely travels the length of the room to reach him?
“I don’t know,” he says.
I touch a hand to my throat, swallowing and nearly sobbing with the agony that resurfaces. Biting back the sound and tears, I glance down at the rest of me. My ass aches inside and out. My cunt is sore. I can’t remember if I passed out before he came or after. My memory is a murky haze.
Lex had made Bran’s single attempt at anal feel like ecstasy. I’d cried and shoved Bran off me in that one try and refused to ever let him do it again. He’d used lube at least. Lex had fucked me with nothing but my own cunt juices, spit, and cum.
Guilt eats at my insides. How much pain did it take for him to do that?
Even now, I’m afraid to stand because I’m not sure that my body will be able to handle it. I’m sure I’m still in shock because the lightning zips of various injuries and pains continue to pump through me, but they feel muted somehow. As if all of my nerve endings are so overwhelmed by the unusual amount of discomfort. I’m sure it’ll only get worse.
“I still want to,” Lex admits.
He still wants to kill me? I shift on the bed, sliding towards the edge and freeze as something leaks from me. My eyes shoot to Lex’s face. With horrifying realization, I understand what it is. Lex’s cum is oozing out of my ass.
My stomach cramps lightly and with a grimace, I reach down and cup a palm over it. Any more clenching only makes the liquid move faster, sliding between my ass cheeks in a sick expulsion.
“Bathroom,” I croak, struggling to get to the edge of the bed as it really becomes a problem. My feet graze the floor and as I expected earlier, the second I try to stand, my legs collapse from under me.
Lex doesn’t move from his spot. Instead, he simply sits there and watches me as I battle with my own limbs in a bid to get them to work correctly. I’ve never felt more humiliated in my life. Not when I caught Bran and Avery together. Not when my father was arrested. Not even when I was called into Principal Long’s office and informed that the school counselor had made a false report about my mental health.
I press my lips together as I force one leg up and plant my foot. I will not beg for Lex’s help. I will not let him see me fall again. With one hand gripping the side of the mattress, I haul myself to my feet and shuffle towards the door on the opposite side of the bedroom.
