Page 71 of Endgame

The tearing sound was from a packet of antiseptic swabs. He’s cleaning the new butt plug.

“I’m not heartless.” I hate that it feels like he’s taking care of me. “I prepped your virgin cunt for my cock. You should be thanking me.”

He’s right. About everything.

Instead of being thrown into a basement, I’m here. In his room. I’ve been sleeping in a comfortable bed.

He even made me come. Made me consider giving myself to him, despite everything.

Molly and Winston have never offered me a sliver of kindness. A hint of emotion other than contempt and hatred.

Being free would be better than my current situation.

But I can’t deny that Everett’s ministrations are the closest thing to affection I’ve ever felt.

I blink back tears. Because how fucking sad is that.

“No thank you?” Everett spits on my ass, then rubs it into my hole, wringing a yelp out of me. “It’s all right. You’ll learn. I’ll grind gratitude into your bones.”

The butt plug slips inside me, as if Everett’s being careful not to tear anything. Doesn’t change the fact that I have a plug in my ass.

“Go to hell,” I cry out, seething. Horrified by the heat spreading through me. “God, I hate you.”

“What gives you the impression I care?”

Bastard.

His hand knots in my hair, dragging me close—gorgeous, evil, filling my vision as he wipes his fingers clean.

I wait until he’s close enough, then sink my teeth into his lip—hard, until the copper tang of his blood coats my tongue. His growl rumbles into my mouth, vibrating through me like static.

“Bad girl.” He slams my face to the bed, then pulls back. “Bad fucking girl, Aurora.”

At his feral glare, fear and arousal almost paralyze me.

Almost.

“Oh, hubby, are you crying because I wounded you?” I lick my blood-coated lips, watching his nostrils flare. “What gives you the impressionIcare?”

He grabs the remote off the bed, doesn’t give me a second to prepare before he clocks the button.

A small smirk plays on his lips as I swallow down a scream.

“I’ll give you something to care about.” Standing between my spread legs, Everett removes his belt. Undoes his pants.

“Stop.”

His intimidating cock is hard in his hand. The tip glistens.

He’s a beautiful man. With a beautiful dick.

What he’s about to do to me won’t be beautiful at all.

Nevertheless, I’ll want it. My body craves this already. Needs to break for him.

Knowing that I shouldn’t is what’s tearing me apart.

“I’d tell you to relax.” The stretch, just from the tip of his cock lined up and pressing into my pussy, is unbearable. “That it’d hurt less that way.”