Page 52 of House of Cards (The Devil’s Den #2)

She sounds like she was about to say something, but even the smallest sound makes her throat move. Still, she can’t hold back a strangled whimper as the shard of mirror pierces her skin.

A bright red dot wells up.

If that single tear gliding down her cheek wasn’t a trigger, this sure as fuck is.

“Christ,” I huff out, gaze transfixed on her throat, on that tiny ruby droplet clinging to her creamy skin. “Look what you’ve made me do.”

A shudder courses through me.

No.

Not now.

Not with her .

I swipe my thumb over the drop, trying to make it disappear. The tear finally lands, and that helps, but there’s still a pink smear that reminds me of what almost just happened.

Zoey can’t possibly have any idea what’s going on in my mind, but the horror in her eyes isn’t a trick of the light. She glimpsed the man behind the mask, and she’ll be having nightmares about him for weeks to come.

If she survives.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re gonna feel me in your goddamn soul,” I grate, hardly recognizing my voice.

She yells when I grab her by the throat. Fights me when I yank her away from the vanity and herd her through the door, one arm still too weak to be effectual.

Her ankle catches on a jagged edge of the remaining door, but I simply lift her clear. I bend down to snatch up the belt I’d dropped.

Zoey doesn’t seem to notice. She’s more concerned with scratching and digging her nails into my wrist when she should save her energy for something that matters.

Like when I finally let her go, and she can run.

I toss her onto the bed. Her wild, wet brown hair flies into her face as she bounces off the bare mattress.

She lands on her good side, but she must have forgotten about her tender shoulder because when she rolls onto her stomach to escape me, she grunts in pain.

Her head hangs down for a second before she rallies and starts dragging herself away.

But I’m already there. And as soon as I straddle her, she’s pinned.

I loop the belt around her throat, drawing it back until she arches oh so prettily for me. She splutters and coughs, clawing at the leather, throwing me frantic glances from the corner of her eye.

I know what she wants.

She wants answers.

Why her?

Why me?

Why this ?

There are never any answers. Just more questions.

Like why I need to mark her so thoroughly that she’ll never forget I owned her, even though I’m about to release her.

I shift down her body until I’m sitting on her thighs. Her hips wriggle, but struggle as she might, she’s trapped. When I hook a finger behind her pants and yank them down in one rough motion, she goes still.

Not surrendering.

Just waiting.

Chad bruised her, but faintly. I grab her ass cheek and give it a hard squeeze. A painful massage meant to bring more blood to the surface.

Increasing pleasure.

Doubling pain.

But I’m too impatient for niceties. For ritual.

I bring my palm down with a loud crack that makes her ass jiggle and her body tense under me. She chokes out a hoarse, “Fuck!” that sounds both angry and panicked.

“Freedom has a price, kitten.” I feed the belt through my hand, giving her some slack, and she hitches in a grateful lungful of air as she sinks down to the mattress.

Only to tense up when I slide my arm under her hips and scoop her ass in the air. Now I’m straddling her calves, and Christ, it’s as if my cock can smell her pussy the way it strains to break through my trousers.

“That price is breaking you one last time.”

She trembles when I drag my zipper down. I expect her to say something, but she’s silent.

No, not silent.

I can hear her panting. Soft and steady. The sound growing harsher as I give her ass another squeeze, pausing briefly as I slap her again.

I’m torn between staring at her bruised ass as I give her another few slaps, and watching the pain flinch over her face with each blow. Both have me desperate to be inside her already, so I can feel her flinching around my cock.

“I want to hear you beg for my cock like it’s oxygen.”

There’s enough give on the belt that she can breathe. But not enough for her to escape, and barely enough for her to rasp out, “Fuck you,” in answer.

She could have struggled when I shift my weight, sinking my knees between her legs, keeping her pussy accessible.

But she doesn’t.

She watches me over her shoulder, her cheek pressed to the bare mattress, lips parted, face flushed.

Christ, she’s enjoying this.

That usually takes all the fun out of it.

But this feels different. Fuck knows why.

I rain down another five slaps, knowing it’s not punishment anymore, but still needing to get it out of my system. Her eyes flutter shut when I swipe my hand over her pussy, and there’s a clench of frustration in my chest when I feel how wet she is.

But when my fingers glide up, stroking her tight little asshole, those eyes of her pop open.

“What are you doing?” she whispers breathlessly. “What the fuck are you doing?”

I chuckle.

I fucking chuckle .

Then I glance down and spit, hitting her right on her puckered hole. I hear a sound from her that might have been a groan, but muffled, as if she’s biting down on her lip to suppress it.

“You broke something of mine, kitten. Only fair I break something of yours.”

“What about my shoulder, you freak?” she blurts out.

I press my thumb to her hole, lubricating it with my spit as I drag my cock out of my trousers. Every stroke makes her tremble harder, but she’s not pulling away, barely even struggling.

“You’ll be fine. It’s not even dislocated. If it was, you’d be too busy sobbing in pain to have this conversation.”

“You’re so proud of keeping yourself on a tight leash, aren’t you?” she goads me.

“I was, kitten. I was. But you don’t deserve that kindness anymore.” I grab my cock and press it against her tight, slippery hole.

“You’re not even a person to me. You’re a hole . A warm, wet hole I’m going to fuck raw until you forget your own name.”

I lick my lips, my jaw immediately clenching shut, changing my voice into a low, angry mutter.

“Until all you know is the taste of my come, the sting of my belt, the way your throat clicks when I choke you mid-scream.”

Zoey gasps as I push into her, the sound immediately branded into my mind.

“Until all you know is me .”