Page 57

"Damn it, Teagan," he says as he pulls me toward the bed. "You insufferable fucking brat."

Just as quickly as he bends me over the side of the bed, he sinks his cock into me, thrusting hard and fast.

"Oh, fuck!" I scream.

He uses that braid for leverage, just like he said he would, straining my neck in the most uncomfortable position. I grip the covers tightly, arching my back and pushing against him, lifting onto my toes as his hips slam into my ass over and over, his cock hitting me hard and deep.

"I wish I'd never laid eyes on you," he rasps. "I should have never dipped my dick into your needy little pussy."

His words shouldn't have me moaning, my pussy clenching, but they do. "Yes!" I cry out. "Oh, fuck, don't stop."

"You're a little whore, little monster," he groans, twisting the braid tightly around his fist. "I'd slit your throat and send you back to whatever crevice of hell you crawled out of if I could."

"Fuck!" I scream, violently coming apart around him. I can't breathe. I can't see. I can't focus on anything except for the pulse between my legs and the thick cock drilling into me from behind.

"Say it!" he grits through his teeth. "Say you're a little whore."

"I'm your little whore," I whimper."Master."

He groans loudly, moving his hands to my shoulders and using them to pull me back into him. His hips slam into me a few more times before he stills, burying himself so deeply I can feel his cock twitching inside of me when he comes.

"Look what you fucking did," he growls. "Now, we're going to have to burn these blankets, too. Damn it, Teagan."

I fall limp onto the mattress as he releases me and storms out of the room, leaving me naked and alone, breathless and bloody, face down on the mattress with his cum dripping from my swollen pussy.

"Fuck," I mutter. Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to cry. I can't explain why it hurts so much, but it does.

I push off the bed and, on legs like jello, make my way back to the bathroom. The water is still running, and the mirror and shower doors are completely fogged over. I step under the hot spray and scrub my body and hair clean with jasmine-scented soaps and shampoos, watching blood swirl down the drain.

And a lot of hair, too. Of course, it makes sense that the knife would have cut through some of it. The braid must have been the only thing holding it together. Oh well.

After I dry off, I walk into an attached closet just as big as the bedroom. I open drawers until I find Cake Girl's bra and panties and slip on the prettiest matching set I can find. Then, I flip through the wardrobe—through all the shiny, beautiful things Warren bought for his child bride.

Riv would be in heaven in here.

With her in mind, I find a red lace mini dress and pair it with black leather Prada combat boots with a zip pocket on the side. I use her makeup and perfume before leaving the bathroom. A masked man lounges on the bed against the headboard, his arms crossed in front of him, when I return to the room.

"Are you Bone Saw?" I ask.

"What do you think?" he snaps. "Why are you dressed like that?"

I frown, shaking my head. "Does it matter?"

"It's okay, kitten." I look to my left and see Declan sitting in a high-backed chair in the corner of the room with a book in his lap. "You look pretty. You just wanted to look pretty, didn't you?"

I nod.

"You're so sweet," Fake Declan says. "Maybe you should tell him that and ask him to hold you again."

"He doesn't care," I tell him. "It's not real."

"It still feels good, though, doesn't it? Even when it's not real? That's what you said."

"Well, that's the problem…it's starting to—"

"Teagan, what the fuck are you doing?"

I turn back to Bone Saw. "Nothing," I say.