Page 64
Story: Betrayals of the Broken
I won’t let it. I need her.
She’s my savior, my only chance to end this. And she hates me. Which is okay. Except every time she opens her dirty little mouth, I want to fill it. Since day one. And if she wanted it too, it would have been fine—fucking on the black floor of the cell. Up against the bars of the nook. Flipping her over the back of the couch.ThatI could handle. But this? Not a chance.
I’ve been a walking disaster for years. Nothing quiets the thoughts or dulls the memories. Every day I wished for true death, its permanence—until her. I’ve never felt so alive before. But I’m not the type of guy to give an actual fuck about a woman. Or inhale her sweet scent, fifty times more potent when she’s turned on. I’ll say anything to make her wet so I can breathe her in, watch her cheeks pinken over me. And I’m not the type to notice the way her teeth scrape her bottom lip for that split second when the wordfuckcomes out of her mouth, longer when she’s pissed. But I do.
I refuse to look down as she tucks her face against me, nuzzling dangerously close to my heart. I swear it’ll jump out of my chest to get to her. How is she feisty as fuck on the outside and soft on the inside? She grew up in Caldera, not here, where we’re beaten and tortured as kids. She shouldn’t be so…troubled. I want to split her open and patch every hole in her fragile little heart.
And it’s not okay.
Why the fuck is she doing this to me? She’s wrecking everything. It’s not only that one look at her makes me hard with nowhere to put it. It’s worse. She’s got me wrapping her up in my arms under the guise of shooting a slingshot. And giving her teva to stop those pretty tears. And I never should have taken her upstairs, shown her my house, my past, my life from before.
Because I have to focus on finding the right trigger.I have to.
But she’s such a godsdamn distraction.
I can barely remember what I’m supposed to be doing when she misbehaves—giving me that look, her little nose scrunched up, dead set on not doing what I say. She’s so damn defiant…strong in ways no one else is.
And those eyes.
Shit.
I’m so fucked. I have one thing to do, one thing I need.Her.
But it’s more than that.
It’s the way she puts on a brave face for everything as though she’s been through so much worse—fucking fearless. It’s that faraway look in her eyes when she seems to disappear inside her mind, and how I can’t turn away—how it feels like, if I just look long enough, she’ll let me in. And it’s the way she sees me like no one else does, how she talks back and tries so hard to stay mad, pretending she doesn’t crave my cock, that she hates me as much as she believes I hate her. It’s her determination, that fire in her…and how she smells my blanket when she thinks I’m not looking. That’s what has me wanting to lock her up only for me and keep her forever.
No, I won’t let her get away.
I’ll wrap her in chains to ensure her safety—and for fun too. She’d love it. I’ll do anything. I grip my knife and squeeze her tight.Anything.
“Don’t you understand yet?” I say, raindrops sliding into my mouth. She unburies her face to look up at me with stunning eyes, not a lick of fear in them. “You can’t escape me.”Because I couldn’t handle it.
Her body relaxes against mine, motionless, except for her tiny shivers. I hold her close, so close, as I walk on and on in the pouring rain.
We’re deep into the woods when she tugs one arm loose and removes the panties from her mouth. She won’t scream again. She may not be too pleased with me, but she doesn’t want to end up back in the Centress’ hands.
“I can walk,” she says, her voice soft, a hint of that defiance.
I pull her even closer. “I know.”But I can’t seem to let go.
From the corner of my eye, I see her—watching me much too closely. A curious look, those indigo eyes wide, wet lashes framing them. Maybe I gave away too much with two words. I continue on, the speechless seconds heavy and foreign without her usual backtalk—until I’m caught.
“You stuffed my underwear in my mouth?”
It’s hardly the fierce tone I’d expect…almost amused. I smile. She’s so tired she forgot to act pissed. I grow harder at the thought of pumping my cock with her spit-soaked panties. “I’m going to need that back.”
I lift my chin, set on holding back all emotion, but then her hand is on my face. I startle and look straight ahead.Don’t react. It’s for the best.But her fingers run over my eyebrows, dragging the curls from either side of my forehead, and I crack.
I look at her. Our eyes catch. Only one second and my breath is taken from me.
Godsdammit.
She’s breaking me. I hug her tight. Doesn’t she see that I can’t control my own hands, my own strength?
“I could crush you,” I say, barely able to breathe. I would never.
But I can’t let her want me. I can’t want her. It’s too risky.
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